


it was really me, it was really you

by akamine_chan



Series: The Life of Dinosaurs [1]
Category: Cobra Starship, Comics RPF, Fall Out Boy, Hush Sound, Mindless Self Indulgence, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Reggie and the Full Effect, The Used
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dinosaurs, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Alternate Universe - Television Stars, Bandom Big Bang 2015, Community: bandombigbang, M/M, SCIENCE!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-20 22:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4804709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard and Frank are rival hosts of dinosaur nature shows, who suddenly find themselves forced to work together.  In order to impress their new boss, cable magnate Grant Morrison, they have to create a season of dynamic shows that maintain their high standards as well as continue to bring in the viewership (and ad revenue).</p><p>On top of that, Frank and Gerard have to deal with the unexpected physical attraction they feel toward each other, all while avoiding stampeding ankylosaurs, ravenous theropods, and the occasional amorous pterosaurs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it was really me, it was really you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ande](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ande/gifts), [Lucifuge5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/gifts).



> Additional warnings for: scene of over-eating, talk of dinosaur abuse (not on-screen), talk of dinosaur blood sports (not on-screen), potential danger and violence of the nature-red-in-tooth-and-claw variety, scene with a spider. Also, ridiculous boys in love.
> 
> Much thanks to Ande for pushing me, and for being the best, most steadfast beta ever. Also, thanks to ermengarde for the excellent Scots-pick, which makes Grant sound more Grant-like.
> 
> Additional thanks to everyone who read any draft versions of this story and encouraged me in my ridiculousness: ermengarde, argentumlupine, @acid_wit, Jiksa, my beloved Luce, others I've probably forgotten (sorry). Special thanks to Jiksa for giving me nightmares about the Huntsman spider (wtf!).
> 
> Please check out the [amazing art](http://cocoamocha.tumblr.com/image/129192621640) by Nadia. Seriously, so amazing.
> 
> And wonderful [fanart](http://extremelybadlydrawnemos.tumblr.com/post/153878359360/i-know-i-have-posted-about-this-amazing-fic) by @extremelybadlydrawnemos on tumblr.

# Part 1

"He wants to see you."

Gerard blinked. "What? Why? You said nothing would change."

Lindsey sighed. "Nothing _has_ changed. He just wants you to come in for a meeting. Lots of people are getting called in. No one's been cancelled, or fired, so far." Lindsey kept her voice soft and coaxing, because she _knew_ Gerard would freak out. "He just wants to meet you, Gee. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

Maybe not to you," he muttered. He much preferred being out in the field, with his film crew, chasing down fascinating undiscovered dinosaur species. Or hanging out in the editing room with Ray, trying to create something cohesive out of the raw footage. 

He hated meetings. "I hate meetings."

Lindsey signed again. "I know, but they're a necessary evil if you want to be keep _Dino World Exploration_ on the air."

Gerard gave in, but with little grace. "Fine," he said, a bit sullenly.

Lindsey didn't take it personally. "I'll make it work," she said.

Gerard was about to say goodbye, but— "Thanks, Lindsey. I don't know what I would do without you."

She laughed softly. "You'd probably get eaten by a dinosaur."

Gerard smiled. "Probably." He checked his watch and realized he was going to be late meeting up with Ray. "Gotta go, let me know about the meeting, yeah?" A sudden thought struck him. "I don't have to wear a suit, do I?" He hated wearing suits; he looked ridiculous in them, like a kid wearing his dad's clothes.

"We'll see," she said, and hung up on him before he could complain again.

"Fuck," Gerard muttered to himself, grabbing his messenger bag and heading to the studio.

* * *

Ray Toro was already at the studio, squinting at the monitor as he scanned some raw footage. 

"Hey, Ray, qué pasó?"

Ray hit a button and the video froze. "This is a such a great shot; I thought for sure that carnotaur was going to swallow you whole." He pointed to the carnotaur on the video monitor, which was literally nipping at Gerard's heels as he ran toward the safety of a grove of trees. Gerard had hoped, correctly, that the carnotaur was too big to maneuver between the close set trunks.

Gerard frowned; he'd lost one of his best pair of boots on that trip. "Do you think the network would have been allowed to air the footage of me getting eaten?" The ideal appealed, in a weird sort of way. It'd be a brilliant tribute to the end of his career. "With one of those warnings at the beginning: 'What you are about to see may not be suitable for young children or people with delicate constitutions. Please watch at your own discretion.'"

Ray raised an eyebrow. "Probably not; too much blood."

"Yeah," Gerard agreed sadly. "Too bad."

Ray just rolled his eyes. "I heard Morrison's yanking on your leash."

Gerard tried to pretend that it wasn't gnawing at him, Morrison's demand to meet. "Lindsey says it's just a getting-to-know-you meeting."

"Hmmm," Ray said, noncommittal.

Something about the deliberately bland way Ray was reacting was setting off all of Gerard's alarm bells. "You don't think it's just a getting-to-know-you meeting?"

Ray shrugged. "There's some rumors, gossip, really. Probably not worth worrying about." He fiddled with some control knobs, flipped a switch.

Something inside of Gerard's stomach twisted. He was going to throw up. "What did you hear?" His voice was slightly shrill, so he cleared his throat.

Ray waved him off. "Nothing, it probably doesn't mean anything—"

"What doesn't mean anything?" Gerard interrupted. "Tell me."

"I don't want you to worry—"

"Too late! At this point, I'll worry more if you don't tell me," Gerard pointed out, and Ray had to concede that he was probably right.

"I heard that Iero got called in for a meeting, as well."

Gerard squeaked in alarm. "Oh, God, Ray, Morrison is going to cancel the show. Fuck, fuck, fuck, it's not fair, our ratings are better than Iero's—"

"Barely," Ray interjected.

Gerard glared. "Better ratings are still better ratings." He stuck out his index finger. "We have better ratings." A second finger was raised. "We have more sponsors." The third finger. "We have a wider demographic, from kids to young adults to older people." Gerard's pinky. "And we're a better quality show that what Iero puts out. He's flash, we're substance." 

"So, given all of that, it seems more likely that Iero's getting cancelled, not us." 

"Maybe?" Gerard didn't sound convinced.

Ray shook his head. "Morrison would be an idiot to cancel DWE - and he didn't get to be the king of cable networks by being an idiot."

"I guess." Gerard poured himself a mug of coffee. "I hope." 

"It'll be fine," Ray said, twisting a dial. "Let's do some editing."

* * *

"What do you mean, he wants a meeting?"

Jamia sighed and examined her fingernails. "Just what I said, Frankie. I got a call from his assistant, he wants to see you on Monday, 10 A.M. 

"I fucking knew it! He's gonna try to cancel the show!"

Jamia rolled her eyes. "He wants to meet the people responsible for the best shows on the network." She huffed out a breath. "And luckily for you, _Super Dino Hunt_ is one of those shows."

Frank shuddered. "I heard that _Cat Psychic_ got cancelled. They said they had to drag Jason away kicking and screaming."

"Really?" Jamia looked fascinated. "He was such a douche. Kept trying to feel up my tits."

"What?" He looked at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged. "I can take care of myself. The last time he tried, I grabbed his balls and—" She made a vicious twisting motion that made Frank wince and cross his legs protectively. "Anyway," she said, getting up and ruffling Frank's hair. "Monday, 10 A.M. Wear your good suit, shake his hand, say 'please' and 'thank you' and play nice. Otherwise you might find _Super Dino Hunt_ on the chopping block."

The idea was terrifying. He'd devoted most of his adult life to building up the show, assembling the best crew he could get his hands on, finding the best locales to film in, coming up with the ideas that would entice the audience into watching, and he wasn't ready to let it go.

* * *

Their rivalry had started innocuously enough, an interview with _Dinosaurs Monthly_ , where Frank had jokingly talked about Gerard's tendency toward the dramatic, and when the magazine came out, it hadn't sounded like Frank had been kidding. 

He and Gerard hadn't _known_ each other, not really, they'd just been colleagues in the same field, but when Frank called to apologize, like Jamia insisted, Gerard hung up the phone on him.

The next month, there was a feature on Gerard in the summer edition of _Cable News_ and Gerard had taken the time to mention that Frank's show suffered from an excess of frivolity.

Frank had called and left a message accusing Gerard of being snooty. And when Frank needed a new sound technician, he hadn't hesitated to offer Bob a higher salary and stole him away from Gerard's production company.

The first time they met in person after their rivalry had started had been at the annual National Cable & Telecommunications Association awards show, and they'd gotten into a physical scuffle in the parking lot, pushing and shoving at each other like two kids at a playground.

 _That_ incident had actually made the tabloids, pictures of Frank red-faced with anger, tie askew, and Gerard's dress shirt wrinkled beyond repair, hair a wild halo around his face. 

After that, Jamia and Lindsey worked hard to keep them away from each other.

* * *

"What is _he_ doing here?" Gerard hissed.

Lindsey looked over her shoulder and— "Oh, hey, Jamia." Lindsey nodded casually to Frank as she pulled Jamia in for a hug. "Did you get the development notes for Lex's new show that I sent?" She could feel Gerard bristling behind her like an angry cat, and suspected that Frank was doing the same.

Jamia smiled and pressed a kiss to Lindsey cheek. "I did, but I haven't had time to add my own notes. This weekend, I promise."

"Excellent." Lindsey looked at the around the waiting room, at the secretary manning the phone. "He called Frank in, too?" She would never admit it to Gerard, but it was worrisome; Grant Morrison calling in the stars of two rival nature shows that he'd inherited with the purchase of both the Critter Cable Network and the Xtreme Science! Network. 

There'd been a lot of talk about monopolies, and unfair business practices, but in the end, the FCC had signed off on the purchase, making Grant Morrison the owner of the largest conglomerate of cable shows in the world.

"Yeah." 

It was only because she'd known Jamia for a long, long time that Lindsey was able to catch the hint of worry in Jamia's voice.

"Ladies, gentlemen, this way, please." The secretary escorted them to an ornate conference room. Gerard and Frank tried to go through the door at the same time, resulting in a brief shoving match. "Please help yourself; there's coffee and tea, and pastries." She flipped a switch that lowered a projector screen from a niche in the ceiling before leaving the room.

"Donuts," Frank crowed.

Frank!" Jamia shot him a look, trying to remind him with her eyebrows about _best behavior_.

"Coffee," Gerard moaned, and Lindsey just rolled her eyes at him.

"Boys," Jamia whispered in exasperation, and Lindsey only nodded in agreement.

They all settled around the conference table with coffee and pastries. Lindsey picked at hers, suddenly not hungry, and Frank and Gerard glared at each other while they took advantage of the free food.

The door to the conference room opened and Grant Morrison walked in. He was tall and dapper, well dressed with a shaved head and a friendly-enough smile.

"Good morning, everyone. Thanks for coming in for this meeting."

Gerard glanced at Frank. _Like we had a choice_ , his eyes said, and Frank just barely stopped himself from snickering in agreement. 

He shook their hands, insisted that everyone call him Grant, and made small talk for a few minutes, obviously trying to put them at ease. He seemed well versed with both Frank's and Gerard's shows, how they were different, and asked insightful, intelligent questions about their work. 

Frank started to relax a little.

"So, with the acquisitions of Critter Cable and Xtreme Science!, there's going to have to be some reorganizing."

Frank turned pale, and Lindsey's stomach churned anxiously. This didn't sound like a good thing.

"No, no, watch those chins, they're tripping you," Grant said in his Scottish drawl. "It's not that bad, I promise."

He swung his chair around and used a remote to turn on the projector. "I got my assistant put some numbers together, so you can see where I'm coming from."

Grant went on to talk about demographics and market shares, new advances in predictive marketing, and focus groups. There were a lot of terms that Frank wasn't familiar with, and Gerard looked equally as clueless. 

Jamia and Lindsey nodded agreeably with everything Grant was saying, and Frank could only thank God that he'd hired Jamia early on as his agent.

"Wait. So you're saying you want to cancel our shows?" Gerard looked helplessly at Frank. The threat of being cancelled had put them on the same side, and they'd instinctively dropped their animosity toward each other. 

Grant laughed heartily. "No, lad, I want to _combine_ them."

* * *

"This is so fucked up," Frank muttered resentfully.

"No shit," Gerard grumbled, staring at the bottom of his cup like he could read the future in the coffee dregs. "Stupidest idea ever."

Lindsey blew her bangs out of her face and looked at Gerard, then Frank. "Okay, guys, let's focus. We need to go over the new contracts, and hammer out a game plan for the next season of episodes."

She looked at Jamia for help when both Gerard and Frank developed almost identical looks of mulishness. It would have been funny if she wasn't at the end of her patience.

Jamia glared at Frank, while Lindsey put on a pair of black-framed glasses. "Here. Section Three stipulates that Frank's name comes before Gerard's on the title card."

"What?" Gerard was outraged. "I've been doing my show for longer—" 

"Alphabetical," Lindsey explained, "but it does favor Frank over Gerard. Can we agree that their names need to appear side by side, in similiar sized fonts?"

"Yes, that works," Jamia said, making a note on her copy of the contract. 

"Section Six - the name of the show." Lindsey sighed, because there was no easy solution to this one.

"I think I should get to keep the name of my show," Frank said, glaring at Gerard. "It's a cooler name, with more appeal."

"To frat boys, maybe." Gerard sniffed. "It also implies a human-privileged relationship over dinosaurs - humans superior to dinosaurs, 'hunting' them, even if it's just metaphorically. It's about violence and domination and a rigid thumb-based hierarchy."

Frank looked at him in disbelief. "All that from _Super Dino Hunt_?"

"It's the word 'hunt.' It's oppressive," he said primly.

"And _Dino World Exploration_ sounds like a snoozefest you'd see at a cut rate, underfunded museum. I'd expect crappy special effects dinosaurs and misinformation about the ecology and behavior of any dinosaurs featured on the show."

"F—"

"Okay," Jamia interrupted forcefully. "It's clear that we're going to have to come up with a new name, one that doesn't imply either frat boy shenanigans nor stodgy old museum docents. Any helpful suggestions?"

"Well, it's got to have 'dino' in it," Lindsay said, laying out the obvious.

"And nothing that implies oppression or diminishing of the dinosaurs, like 'hunt'," Frank said snidely.

"Okay." Jamia scribbled some notes in her notepad. "Must have 'dino,' no bad or boring words. Maybe something that emphasized the partnership between the two hosts, the two shows?" 

"Like what?" Lindsey asked.

Jamia shook her head. "I don't know. Just tossing around ideas right now. _Super Dino Journey_? _The Dinosaur Files_? _Super Dino Diaries_?"

" _Amazing Dinoventure?_ " Lindsey suggested.

Frank snorted at that one.

"I like it," Gerard said, glaring at Frank.

" _Call of the Dinos_? _Super Dino Chase_? _Dino Days_?" Frank was getting into the spirit of things.

" _I, Dinosaur_ ," Gerard said, deadpan, and that one sent them all into gales of laughter.

"That's terrible." Lindsey said, and Frank had to agree.

" _Natural Dino World_ ,'" Gerard tried.

"Bor-ring," Frank intoned.

" _Running with Dinosaurs _," Jamia said.__

" _Running_ from _Dinosaurs_ ," Lindsey countered with a grin.

" _Up Close and Dangerous_? No, how about _Up Close and Dinodangerous_."

Gerard was actually pouting at his point. "You are not helping. We need a name that is catchy and appeals to multiple demographics, and is something that Frank and I can live with."

"And not make fun of," Frank added.

"Well, I think we'll have to skip over that for right now; sounds like that's something the two of you can hammer out on your own." Lindsey said. "Now, Section Eight - compensation."

* * *

Compensation actually turned out to be a fairly straight forward issue. Grant Morrison was a generous employer to those with solid shows and good ratings; the salaries and budget for individual shows were more than adequate.

"Okay, guys," Lindsey yawned. "We've been here for hours, and we've covered everything that Jamia and I need to be involved in. Anything that's left can be handled by the two of you."

Jamia said, "You've got a few days to figure out a broad episode arc and have a good feel for the logistics. You'll need episode synopses, a listing of interstitial scenes, and an approximate budget for each episode." She looked over at Lindsey. "We're going to go out and get some dinner, and then do some networking."

Gerard smirked. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Lindsey flipped him off and stood up, gathering her paperwork and notes. "Whatever," she said. "You and Frank don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

Jamia nodded and they left the conference room, not even trying to hide the fact that they were holding hands.

"Did she just actually quote a Semisonic song at us?"

Gerard hummed the song in question. "Yes, yes she did."

Frank sighed. "Well, I've drunk so much coffee my hands are shaking. I need some food. How about you?"

Gerard, who'd eaten close to his body weight in donuts and danishes, wasn't particularly hungry. But he knew that they needed to hammer out the rest of the details, and this was the longest time he and Frank had ever spent together without physical violence being threatened, so he was counting it as a good thing. "Sure? Pizza?"

"Oh, man, you're actually _not_ totally evil. Pizza is perfect. Do you know Giovanni's, over on 4th? It's not far from here and the food's good."

"Deal, " Gerard said, grabbing his messenger bag. "Last one there is a loser and pays for the pizza," he said, zipping off before Frank had a chance to answer. 

"Fucker," he muttered and raced after Gerard.

They arrived almost simultaneously at the restaurant, Gerard in his Mini, Frank in his ancient Subaru that he'd inherited from his mom. They both dashed out of their cars and ran toward the door, scuffling and slapping at each other's hands, fighting to grab the handle and pull the door open.

"First," Gerard gasped, and Frank couldn't help but elbow him roughly in the ribs. 

"Not!" Frank said. He wrenched the door open and fell through the doorway, ignoring the looks they were getting from some of the other customers. "You owe me dinner, Way."

"Fuck no," Gerard said. "You didn't win."

"Well, neither did you," Frank retorted.

"Maybe you could call it a tie," the hostess said wryly, grabbing a couple of menus. "This way, please."

They grumbled to themselves as they were led into the restaurant and seated. 

"Tie, motherfucker?" Frank asked.

Shrugging, Gerard gave in. "Sure, tie. This time."

They bickered like kids over what to order, pepperoni versus onions versus mushrooms versus olives. Frank wanted pineapple, Gerard wanted anchovies, just to be contrary. They argued about breadsticks versus garlic knots, and ended up ordering both to compare.

When Frank mentioned that he was a vegetarian, Gerard ordered some buffalo wings out of spite. Frank ordered a side of celery and ate it as loudly as he could while Gerard picked at his wings, making sure to chew with his mouth open to really gross Gerard out.

They realized their mistake after their server, whose name tag read 'Stella,' started bringing them their food. They already had buffalo wings and celery. She brought them a large half anchovies-pepperoni-onion, half pineapple-mushroom-olive pizza, plus garlic knots and breadsticks, and more celery.

"I hate celery," Gerard mumbled, staring at all their food.

"Too bad, motherfucker," Frank said through a mouthful of pizza. 

Gerard shrugged philosophically and applied himself to the food. It didn't take long before they both were sitting back in their chairs and groaning. Frank casually undid the top button of his jeans, while Gerard felt nauseous and was afraid he wouldn't be able to get up. "Oh my god, I've never eaten so much food in my life."

Frank burped happily. "I'm not moving for days."

"I wonder if they have a hand truck in the back they can use to roll us outta here." 

Frank tilted his head in thought. "We can ask."

"Donuts and danishes, and then pizza. . .I might have a future career in competitive eating." Gerard laughed, and then groaned again. "I'm just going to sit here and digest for a while."

Frank nodded agreeably, too sated to even think about teasing Gerard. "Okay."

Their server looked at them, and at all the uneaten food. "I'll bring you some boxes," she said dryly.

"Awesome."

"And more coffee"?" Gerard pleaded. His cup was empty.

She came back with Gerard's coffee, and efficiently packed up the food for them. "Dessert?" she asked, grinning when both Frank and Gerard just groaned. "Here's the check," she said, putting it face down on the table between them. "Not rushing you out of here; stay and relax for a bit. When you're ready, the cashier will cash you out. If you need anything in the meantime, just flag me down." She winked at Gerard and cleared the table.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the background noise of a busy restaurant somehow soothing. "I kinda want something sweet now," Frank muttered, and Gerard just gaped at him in disbelief. 

"You're kidding!" 

"No," Frank said, frowning. "Maybe I can get something to go, eat it later."

Gerard shuddered at the thought. He wasn't sure he would be eating anything in the next two days, leftover pizza be damned.

He caught Stella's eye. "Frank's changed his mind; he'd like some dessert. Whatcha got?" Gerard had to hand it to her, she managed to hide her shock.

"We've got cheesecake, cannoli, and tiramisu."

"Can I get a piece of the cheesecake to go?" Frank asked, and she nodded. 

"Sure thing. Be right back."

Gerard sat up a little. "So, we need to sit down and figure out what we're doing, since Morrison wants a rough idea soon."

Frank nodded and rubbed his belly a little, like it was a favored pet. "Yep. I'm free all day tomorrow."

Gerard pulled out his phone and flipped to the calendar. He had time set aside to work with Ray on some more edits, but that could wait. "Sure. When and where? My home office is decent, I have a conference table we can work at. Plus a really fancy coffee maker."

"Deal," Frank grinned. He pushed his long bangs off his face. "Of course, that means I should bring some donuts, I guess."

Gerard's stomach lurched in protest. "I don't think I'll be eating _anything_ tomorrow. Especially not donuts."

"Weak," Frank snorted, and Gerard flipped him off just as Stella came back with Frank's cheesecake. She just left it at the edge of the table and backed away with a nod. "Have a good evening, gentlemen."

"Thanks," they chorused, and then giggled.

"C'mon, let's blow this joint," Frank said, levering himself up and helping pull Gerard to his feet. "Sooner we're outta here, the sooner we can collapse in our own beds."

Gerard whimpered, and Frank couldn't help but snicker. Before Gerard had a chance to realize what was happening, Frank dashed up to the cashier and was paying the bill.

"Fucker," Gerard muttered. He'd have to get Frank next time for being so sneaky. He contented himself by leaving Stella a pretty substantial tip. "I thought we called it a tie? I can pay for my own dinner, you know."

Frank shrugged. "Yeah, but it pisses you off more if I pay for it."

"Well, I'm still not putting out."

Slowly, Frank looked Gerard over from head to toe. "Good to know." 

Gerard opened his mouth, then shut it with a snap, trying to ignore the heat that reddened his cheeks. "Yeah, well, okay, see you tomorrow," he muttered, leaving the restaurant as quickly as possible, clutching his leftovers like a shield. The way Frank had looked at him make something twist in his stomach. He got halfway to his car when he realized he didn't have Frank's contact info. "Fucking fuck." He could get it from Lindsey, but she would tease him endlessly about having dinner with Frank and not getting his phone number.

He turned around and met Frank coming out of the door. "I don't have your number."

Frank grinned, cocky. "Uh huh. Convenient excuse," he teased, but used a Sharpie he pulled from his back pocket to scribble his number on Gerard's arm, all while juggling his share of take-out containers. "Give me a call when you're ready to get some work done."

"Thanks," Gerard mumbled, watching Frank climb into his Subaru and drive off. He stared after Frank for a long moment, before walking to his Mini and going home.

* * *

By the time Gerard woke up, caffeinated himself and called Frank, it was almost noon.

"You want I should bring donuts?"

"Are you fucking kidding?" Gerard rubbed at his tummy, which still felt uncomfortably full. "None for me, thanks."

He could hear Frank's shrug over the phone. "Suit yourself. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Gerard used the time to make a minor attempt to rearrange some of the clutter, but in the end, he decided he didn't really care if Frank thought he was a total slob. Mostly. He had a cleaning service that kept him from descending into _slovenly_ , but organization had never been his forte. That's why he hired assistants.

He made a fresh pot of coffee and pulled out a map of the world, pinning it to a bulletin board on the wall. They would have to come up with some suitable shooting locations.

Frank brought donuts, a dozen assorted ones, including a few with— " _Sprinkles!_ " Gerard exclaimed.

Frank just grinned. 

Gerard poured Frank some coffee and set the donuts at the far end of the conference table.

Frank unpacked his messenger bag, pulling out a pen and a pile of notebooks in various states of falling apart. "How do you wanna do this?"

Gerard pulled out a pack of index cards. "Synopsis of dinosaurs we want to feature on a card, pin 'em to the map and figure out what's going to work best?"

Frank slid on a pair of blocky, dark-framed glasses and opened a notebook. "And how are we defining 'best', in this case?"

Gerard tapped pen against his lip. "Even though Morrison said we're not in danger of cancellation, I think it's important that we use this season to prove ourselves to him. It's going to be critical that we stay within budget, and deliver shows that are going to be consistently high in the ratings."

"That sets a pretty high bar," Frank grimaced. "You don't ask for much, do you?"

"Between the two of us we have the most amazing group of people - the best editors, producers, location managers, cinematographers - in the business. We can do this. We made great shows separately, we can make great shows together."

Gerard's earnestness made Frank feel a little flustered and he had to make himself meet Gerard's eyes. "All right."

* * *

There were too many dinosaurs. It was a state of existence that neither of them had previously believed in.

They ended up just pinning locations on the map and keeping a list of which particular dinosaurs they were hoping to feature. It was easy to see clusters of interesting-to-them dinosaurs: in Texas and the Dakotas, the Pacific Ocean, the Amazonian jungles of Brazil, the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region in China, coastal Australia.

"This is going to get expensive really quick," Gerard pointed out.

"Yeah, well, there's a reason why travel makes up a huge part of the budget. That, and insurance." Frank took off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Our insurance premiums are fucking ridiculous."

"I believe it's because 'dinosaur wrangler' falls into a high risk category."

Frank laughed. "I don't know why it's considered high risk. I've never once been eaten. Have you?"

Gerard shrugged. "Couple of close calls, but I've lost just as much equipment to rough terrain as to dinosaurs." He scribbled a note to himself to look into alternatives for their insurance. "I'll see if I can find us a better deal."

Frank nodded. "I think we can afford Brazil, the Pacific and the US. Xinjiang Uyghur is way outta our price range, it's fucking _expensive_ to get to that part of China, and as much as I'd love to get us to Australia, I don't think it's going to happen." He'd been number crunching for a while, and it just didn't seem feasible.

Something was tickling at the edge of Gerard's memory, and he tapped his pen against his nose, trying to bring it into focus. "Xinjiang Uyghur, Xinjiang Uyghur," he said, letting the name roll around on his tongue.

"What about it?" Frank raised an eyebrow.

Gerard shook his head and pressed his fingers against his eyelids. There was something— "Mummies!"

"I don't think this is the time for yo mama jokes."

"Ha!" The laugh was surprised out of him. "No, _mummies_ , like the curse of. There's a bunch of archeological sites in the Tarim Basin, which is in the southern part of Xinjiang. I have some friends who were talking about an expedition this summer. I should give Patrick a call, see if they've solidified their plans." Gerard scribbled another note to himself.

"Patrick. . .Stumph?"

Gerard didn't look up. "Yeah, you know him?"

Frank tried to remain calm and not look like a total tool. "I know _of_ him. I'm a fan, _the Mysteries of History_ is one of my favorite shows."

Gerard looked at him skeptically.

" _Really_ big fan," Frank corrected. "Like, would probably stalk him given half a chance."

Laughing, Gerard shook his head. 

"He's so smart!" Frank leaned toward Gerard and whispered conspiratorially. "Big brains really do it for me."

"So you wanna have Patrick's brain babies, is what you're saying."

Frank opened his mouth to contradict that statement, and realized that it was true. "Actually, yes."

Gerard smirked. "I'll make you a deal. You do some cold-calling, touch base with our sponsors and get enough funding for the Australia trip, and I'll make sure we tag along with Patrick, if he's still planning on a Xinjiang expedition."

Frank tilted his head. "Find out if he's going to Xinjiang first. Then I'll work my magic on the sponsors."

"Deal!"

They shook on it.

* * *

It was late, and Gerard's eyes _burned_ from squinting at his laptop, and he realized the soft buzzing sound that he'd been hearing for a while was actually Frank snoring. His arms were folded on the conference table, and his head was pillowed on them, his face hidden by his long hair.

"Bedtime," he murmured to himself. He stood up, wincing as his back protested, and tried to stretch out the kinks. Gerard stood over Frank for a moment, hand hovering and poised to wake him. There was no way he was letting Frank drive home, groggy and exhausted.

"Frank." He squeezed Frank's shoulder and shook him gently. "C'mon, dude, let's get you into bed." He managed to get Frank to his feet, but it was clear that he was still more asleep than awake. 

"Watch out for that stego, Ma," he mumbled. "It's looking for an umbrella."

Gerard bit his lip to stifle the laughter and guided Frank into the guest room, easing him down onto the mattress. He pulled off Frank's socks (Frank had slipped his Chucks off five minutes after showing up) and covered him with a blanket.

"Fuck," he muttered. Now that he was getting to know Frank, he could see that Frank was a good guy, but after years of bickering and shoving matches, after being rivals for so long, he didn't know how to deal with this sudden change in how he perceived Frank.

He yawned, too tired to freak out any further. "Deal with it later," he told himself, and did the logical thing, which was put himself to bed.

* * *

Frank got a text that simply said _patrick's in_ , and he couldn't help but give a victory yell, even though he was in the middle of the grocery store. "Oops," he said, grinning at the people who were starting to back away from him in alarm. "Good news." He brandished his phone at them and pushed his cart toward the registers at the front.

He mentally started cataloging the sponsors in his head, the ones that wouldn't be hard to convince, the ones that would take more work, new sponsors that might be interested in the Australia trip. He pulled out his little notebook and started making notes as the cashier rang up his items.

Once he got home, he put his groceries away and then got to work.

As a teenager, Frank had interned at a non-profit dinosaur rehabilitation center, but it'd been a hands-on kind of internship; he'd had almost no dealings with the administrative side of things. Years later, Jamia had volunteered him for an animal group which had been trying to raise money for a new no-kill animal shelter. Frank loved animals, dogs and cats and dinosaurs, so even though Jamia had tricked him into participating, it had been for a good cause, and Frank couldn't regret it. 

He'd learned how to ask for money, to talk around or through people's objections, and to use their feelings of guilt to get donations. Jamia had called him ruthless, but Frank just shrugged, because the shelter was funded and built and no more animals there were put down just because they weren't adopted.

Sponsorships were a little different. Sometimes companies provided their products to the shows for free, with the understanding that the product would be mentioned or shown on the show. Other times, reality show stars were asked by companies to promote certain products and services for a flat fee. 

It was one of the ways they managed to produce the programming they did with the budgets they had.

Frank understood the rationale behind the process, but he had standards and stuck to them. He wouldn't shill for a company he didn't like or one that seemed unethical. He and Jamia had fought over that one, repeatedly, but in the end she'd thrown her hands up in the air in defeat.

It was hard to maintain your morals when you were in show business, but Frank had always managed it, and that was something he was proud of.

He opened his laptop, picked up his phone and started calling people.

* * *

_aus trip 50% funded_

Gerard stared in disbelief at the text message on his phone. "Already?"

"Already what?" Mikey asked, flipping through some papers on the table. 

"Frank's got half the funding for the trip to Australia," he said, shaking his head. "It's only been a few days."

Mikey shrugged. "Are you complaining?"

"Uh. . ." Gerard shut his mouth and went back to writing captions for the presentation they were giving to Morrison soon. A few minutes later he looked at Mikey. "Maybe?"

"Why?" Mikey didn't look up from the notes he was taking. " _Why_ would you complain about a coworker who's doing his job, and doing it well?"

"Because." 

Mikey actually looked up at that. "Because. . ." His eyes widened. "Oh my God, you're actually pouting."

"Am not," Gerard retorted. 

"You are!" Mikey threw a wadded up sheet of paper at Gerard's head. "Gee, you realize that this isn't a competition, right? It's not about who's better, and how the hell you define 'better' in this situation I'll never know, but it's about cooperation and putting out the best show you can."

"I guess." Gerard fiddled with his pen, and Mikey waited, because he _knew_ Gerard. "It's just that he's—he's got his shit together, you know? He's really fucking smart and funny, and fearless, like there's nothing he can't do. And I feel like such a loser when he's around." He bit his lip to shut himself up, because this was pathetic.

Mikey scrubbed his hand through his hair. "You are also fucking smart. And funny. You might not be fearless, but you don't let being afraid stop you from doing things, which to me is more amazing." He waved his arm toward the shelves that held all of the awards that Gerard had won, from various industry groups and nonprofit organizations. "You've spent years helping protect and conserve dinosaurs around the world, and you've done it while educating and entertaining people."

Gerard knew he was blushing, but he couldn't help the pleased little smile that turned up the corners of his mouth. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're also my best friend and the most awesome big brother in the world." Mikey tried to hide his smile. "Now, can we get back to work? We need to get this presentation finished so you and Frank can practice it a few times before the big day."

Gerard nodded happily. "Sure, Mikey, let's do that."

* * *

"I think it drags a little in the middle."

Gerard's temper flared. "Fuck you, it _doesn't_. Not everything has to be super sparkly bells and whistles."

"We're trying to dazzle Morrison with what we've got planned." Frank pointed out. 

Frank was calm, clearly not being contrary for the sake of being difficult, for once. Gerard took a deep breath. "But we don't want to oversell ourselves, either."

Frank made a so-so motion. "I think we need to go big or go home." He grinned. "Besides, we _can't_ oversell this. It's going to be fucking amazing, and we're going to win awards and Morrison is going to erect statues in our honor. . ."

Gerard giggled against his will and flipped through his presentation notes. "Okay, boring, huh?"

Frank blew his bangs out of his face. "No, not _boring_. It just loses a bit of momentum. And it shouldn't, because we're going from ceratopsians to our miscellaneous episode, and there's going to be some epic dinosaurs and dinosaur-like animals in that episode.

"And instead of presenting it like a dumping ground for dinosaurs that didn't fit in any of the other episodes, we want to act like we put these dinosaurs together because they're so damn awesome."

"Oh." Gerard chewed on the end of his pen. "Yeah, okay, I see what you're saying." He took a few quick notes. "I'll fix it."

Frank beamed at him. "All right. Let's keep going."

They ran through the rest of the presentation, hammering out further details, smoothing out a couple of rough spots. They argued a little over who should present which part, but for the most part, it was done.

They ended up budgeting seven and a half minutes to talk about each episode. It wasn't enough, of course, because Frank and Gerard could go on and _on_ about dinosaurs, but that kept the presentation at a reasonable sixty minutes. 

"You know, I could do all the talking, and get it done in half the time." Gerard pushed his hair away from his face. 

Frank snorted. "Yeah, you could. And no one would understand a word."

"True," Gerard admitted. "Just a thought."

"Yeah, no." Frank shuffled through his notes. "Anything else? Or are we done for the night?" It was early for them, only a little after two A.M. 

"Done, done, done," Gerard said, and Frank noticed for the first time how tired he looked.

"You're exhausted."

Gerard nodded. "Haven't been sleeping well. Nervous about the presentation."

Frank squeezed his shoulder, and couldn't help letting his hand linger for a little longer than necessary. "We're almost done. Dress rehearsal tomorrow, Morrison the day after."

Gerard paled a little, and swallowed. "Yeah."

"We're gonna be great."

"I know." He did; they were going to rock Morrison's socks off. It was just the anticipation and the waiting that made him anxious.

"All right. I'm going home to get some sleep. What time is everyone showing up for the rehearsal?"

"Two. It was the only time that worked for everyone." Gerard stood up and stretched.

"Two it is." Frank gave Gerard an unexpected hug and grabbed his messenger bag. "I'll let myself out; go to bed, and I'll see you tomorrow." He smiled and was gone, and Gerard didn't have the energy to dwell on the hug.

His bed felt cold and lonely, though.

* * *

"The end," Frank intoned, looking out at their audience. Jamia and Lindsey, plus a good portion of their crew, looked back, their faces neutral.

Gerard used the remote to turn off the projector. "Well?"

There was a long moment when Frank was sure they fucked up somehow, and then Lindsey smiled and started clapping, and everyone joined in, cheering. "Oh, thank fuck," he breathed, the tension dropping away.

Gerard threw his arm around Frank's shoulders and pulled him close. "We've got this," he said into Frank's ear.

Gerard's warm breath against his ear made him shiver, and a thread of _want_ uncurled in his stomach. "Yeah, we do," he grinned back.

* * *

Gerard had worn his best suit to the initial meeting with Grant Morrison, and so had Frank. Jamia had advised them to go a little less formal for the presentation, so Gerard dug into his closet and pulled out a sports jacket. He knew it made him look like a stuffy university professor, but it was either that or buy new clothes, and he definitely didn't want to do that.

At least it didn't have those stupid leather patch-things on the elbows.

He couldn't contain a laugh when Frank showed up; he was wearing a corduroy blazer with patches on the elbows. "You're such a dork," he said.

Frank was unperturbed. "Not news." He sat down at the conference table and checked his watch. "We've got enough time for one last run through of the presentation, if you want."

Gerard shook his head. "I'm good, though we can if _you_ need the extra practice."

"Fuck you," Frank said without heat. "I can do this presentation in my sleep."

"I can do it backwards in my sleep. With my eyes closed."

Frank bit his lip, but the giggles spilled out anyway. " _You_ are a dork."

Frank's giggles were infectious. "Also not news," Gerard said, laughing helplessly. His laughter trailed off, and he cleared his throat. "Listen, Frank—"

Something in the tone of Gerard's voice made Frank's stomach twist. "Gerard—"

"No, no, listen to me, Frank. I just want to say—to say thank you." He shakes his head. "Even if Morrison hates what we've come up with, which I doubt he will, even if he fucking fires both of us, I just wanted to say thank you, and it's been great working with you."

"I—" Frank didn't often find himself speechless, but here he was, mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. He was blushing; he could feel the way his face heated up. When they'd first started working together, Frank had been sure that their rivalry would flare up again and they'd spend all of their time fighting. Instead, he'd grown to see how smart and dedicated and passionate Gerard was about, well, everything.

"I—the same." His brain finally kicked in. "It's been 78% less annoying bullshit, and 97% more awesome dinosaurs."

Gerard raised his coffee cup in a salute. "To more awesome dinosaurs." 

Frank followed suit, trying to ignore the happiness that thrummed through him.

* * *

Morrison didn't even give them a chance to catch their breath after the presentation was over, he was on his feet and clapping them enthusiastically on the back, shaking their hands vigorously and talking at high speed, his accent thickening in his excitement.

Gerard, a little shaky with adrenaline, only managed to catch every other word, but Frank was smiling wide and nodding, so he stopped worrying about what Morrison was saying and tried to calm his racing heart.

"This is amazing, boys, I'm dead excited about what you've got planned!"

 _That_ came through loud and clear, and Frank looked absolutely giddy, like a kid on Christmas morning. 

Morrison was rubbing his hands together, evoking images of a mad scientist as he ushered them out of the conference room and into his smaller personal office. "Right enough, you're asking for a fair bit of cash to pay for it all." 

Gerard opened his mouth to argue, but Frank grabbed his elbow and squeezed hard to keep him from saying anything.

Morrison sat behind his desk and steepled his fingers, waiting for Frank and Gerard to sit before continuing. "But I reckon, given what you're planning, that I can find the money."

"That's—"

"As long—" he interrupted "—as you don't go over budget, that is." He looked at Frank, and then Gerard. "I can't stress that enough. You've had your lot from me." 

Frank started to ask about what the implied _or else_ entailed, but subsided when Gerard kicked at his foot in warning. He took a deep breath, while Gerard nodded in agreement. "All right." 

"I'll want a weekly financial update, that way we can head off any potential problems before they happen. Once a fortnight, I'll be wanting a meeting to review and discuss the progress of the episodes you're filming. You'll need to refine your timetable; something more detailed, that lists goals for each shoot and episode—"

Frank started to shake his head, because Morrison was asking for the impossible.

"Mr. Morrison—" Gerard's voice was firm and confident, but Frank could see that Gerard's hands were fisted in his lap.

"Grant," Morrison insisted, and Gerard nodded.

"All right. _Grant_. We understand that we're asking for a bigger budget than usual for these episodes, and it makes sense to closely monitor the financial aspects of the situation. We _get_ it, and we've got two of the best accounting managers in the business to help us with that.

"But for the rest— Frank and I have been doing this for a long time. We've spent our entire careers filming wild animals, and we understand that in the field, things can change very quickly. Dinosaurs are unpredictable, and nature is doubly so. Our crew will have to react to dynamic situations, on the fly, and asking us for a detailed schedule is a waste of time. I can guarantee that by the end of the first few days, your schedule will be outdated and useless. It's the nature of wildlife shows."

Morrison started to speak, but Gerard barrelled on. "Additionally, there's a fair amount of creativity involved in filming these shows, and rigid schedules stifle that. I can promise to keep you updated as much as possible, but asking us to plan out every last detail is not something we have any interest in doing."

Morrison leaned back in his chair and stared at Gerard for a moment. "You've got balls, lad."

Morrison wasn't kidding. Frank didn't want to be micromanaged, by Morrison or anyone else, but Gerard wasn't pulling his punches at all. It was a risky gamble.

Gerard met Morrison's gaze straight on, chin lifting incrementally. Frank held his breath at the battle of wills unfolding in front of him. The tension grew thick and Frank started to worry that maybe Gerard had gone too far—

"Aye, well. I see your point." Morrison shuffled some papers on his desk, straightened out the blotter. "We'll try it your way, then."

Gerard nodded. "I do appreciate the trust you're putting into us, Grant. I promise, you won't regret it." He stood up and held out his hand.

"I certainly hope not." They shook on it

"You won't," Frank reassured, popping up to his feet and pumping Morrison's hand enthusiastically. "You really won't."

* * *

Frank and Gerard stood in the parking lot, both of them feeling a little shaky with leftover adrenaline.

"We did it, Frank," Gerard said, giddy. "We did it."

Gerard had a stupid grin on his face, and Frank was absolutely sure his own smile looked just as ridiculous. They'd done it. 

Frank didn't let himself think about it, just reached out, curled his hand around the back of Gerard's neck and pulled him close. He pressed their lips together softly, eyes closing as Gerard's mouth parted on a gasp.

Gerard tasted like coffee and Frank got a little lost in the warmth and wetness of his mouth. After a moment, Gerard sighed, and pulled away. He didn't say anything, just looked into Frank's eyes. "This isn't a good idea," he whispered.

Frank didn't stop him, didn't have the words to keep Gerard from walking away. It was a long time before his hands stopped shaking.

* * *

They were all stuffed into the big conference room at the Eyeball Productions office. It was early, so there was copious amounts of coffee and donuts, and a lot of sleepy faces and yawning.

Frank looked around the room. This was it, this was the team that he and Gerard had assembled, the best people they could beg, borrow and steal for _the Life of Dinosaurs_ ' first season. Only a portion of their staff would go out into the field with them, the rest would stay behind and provide all the behind-the-scenes support that was necessary for a show like this.

Every person in the room was crucial to the success of _the Life of Dinosaurs_. They just needed to make sure that everyone understood that.

Frank cleared his throat loudly, stifling a laugh as Gerard gulped at his coffee, desperately trying to jump-start his brain with the liberal application of massive amounts of caffeine. "Good morning, everyone."

"Good morning, Frank," they chanted in unison, like school kids.

"Assholes," Frank muttered, ignoring the scattered laughter. 

"Well, this is it," Gerard commented, trying not to laugh at Frank's mock-affronted frown. "We've got two weeks until we leave, and there are a million things we need to take care of before then, and a million things still left to do once we're out in the field. Some of you will be right there with us, sweltering in the heat, sleeping in tents in the middle of nowhere, eating questionable food—ahem, _Bert_ —seeing amazing things."

"The rest of you," Frank continued, "will stay behind, hanging out in air conditioned buildings, playing your Xboxes and watching 300 channels of cable television, eating Thai take out." He pushed his bangs out of his face and smiled. "Gerard and I just wanted to make sure that everyone understands how essential both groups are to the success of _the Life of Dinosaurs_. We've got Ray and Mikey behind the cameras, Bob on sound, and Vicky-T finding the best locations, James and James keeping tabs on the money, Chantal managing the vehicles and Bert keeping us fed—" There were raucous cheers at that. "—And everyone else in this room doing what they're best at. Without all of you, this show would not be happening."

"So thank you." Gerard knew he was being annoyingly earnest, but he couldn't help himself. He was so excited about what they were doing, and he had the best group of people working with him to make it all happen. "Thank you for all the time and effort you've put into getting things off the ground, and thank you for all the time and effort you'll end up putting into _the Life of Dinosaurs_."

Frank slanted a grin at Gerard. "And if we're lucky, we won't get eaten, and _the Life of Dinosaurs_ will be the most amazing thing ever. So let's do this."

The crew erupted into cheers.

# Part 2

## Xinjiang Uyghur

The Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region might as well have been another world. 

The area was China's largest administrative division, and was composed of the Dzungarian Basin in the north, and the Tarim Basin in the south.

The area was politically complex, to say the least. Located in the middle of the Asian continent, it was bordered by Mongolia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, and Tibet. Over the course of history, the area had been home to a close to a dozen different ethnic groups, many which still claimed the area as theirs.

To complicate matters, rich deposits of oil and natural gas had been discovered in the 1940's, ensuring that control of the region would be hotly contested.

"What a mess," Gerard murmured, mostly to himself.

"No kidding," Frank mumbled back.

He was sitting slumped in the amazingly uncomfortable airport chair, and Gerard couldn't figure out how his back wasn't killing him. They'd been travelling for what felt like forever, but in reality was just three _really_ long days. New Jersey to Chicago to LAX, LAX to Osaka to Shanghai, Shanghai to Xi'an, each subsequent flight on an even smaller aircraft, until they'd landed here, in—

"Where the fuck _are_ we?"

Frank snorted a laugh. "Jiayuguan." He paused. "I think." He pointed to a colorful mural that was the terminal's only decoration. "There's a fortress, part of the Great Wall." He really hoped that they'd have a chance to take in some of the local sites at some point.

Gerard wanted to be interested, he really did, but he was sure he'd accidentally left his brain behind three airports back. Instead, he leaned against Frank's shoulder. "Are we there yet?"

Frank shrugged, making Gerard's head bounce uncomfortably. 

"Fucker," he muttered.

Frank waved the book he was reading around, almost smacking Gerard in the nose with it. "Mildred Cable's memoirs." Gerard peered at the title of the book, _The Gobi Desert_. "She and her two companions spent thirteen years in the remote parts of the region, back in the 30's. Missionaries."

Gerard sighed, so fucking tired he couldn't see straight. "Read to me, Frankie?" They still had a couple of hours to kill before their flight to Ürümqi, and his mind was spinning in useless circles.

"All right." Frank adjusted his glasses and cleared this throat. "'After living for more than twenty years in the province of Shansi in North China, I took the old trade-route. . .'"

Frank had a great reading voice, and as much as Gerard wanted to stay awake and _listen_ , he found himself soothed to sleep.

* * *

Frank read aloud until Gerard's breathing slowed, deepened. He looked down and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing, because Gerard was ridiculous, snuggled against his shoulder and his mouth hanging open the tiniest bit.

They were both exhausted; the days before they'd started travelling had been filled with many last minute tasks, and Frank had watched Gerard check, then double check to make sure everything was going according to plan.

His body ached and he desperately needed to take a piss, but that would involve moving, and now that Gerard was finally napping, Frank loathed the idea of waking him up. He carefully brushed away the hair that had fallen into Gerard's face, and tried not to think about how screwed he really was.

* * *

Ürümqi looked like any other modern city in Asia. You would never guess by looking at it, how remote the city actually was. Historically, it had been part of the Silk Road, and since the 1600's it had grown into major cultural and commercial hub. 

It had a population of over three million people, and the skyline was nothing but neon and skyscrapers. Like many cities, it had experienced unchecked economic growth, which was a double-edged sword. The residents of Ürümqi had one of the highest disposable incomes per capita in western China, but they also were listed as having some of the worst air pollution.

Frank could personally attest to the air pollution problem; he'd spent his childhood struggling through bouts of bronchitis and pneumonia because of a weak immune system, and the air in Ürümqi made him _wheeze_. He spent a lot of time avoiding the outdoors and when he couldn't, he wore one of the pollution masks that were available at every corner convenience store.

"Filters out particulates," he said, when Gerard raised an eyebrow in question.

"Frank—"

Gerard looked concerned, and Frank waved a hand at him. "I'm fine, it's just a preventative measure. We're only here for a week, and I just don't want to get sick."

"You sure?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah. I'll be fine."

Gerard was dubious, but game. He unfolded his public transit map of the city and pointed. “Okay, so we should be able to hop on the bus here, and get off four stops later at the university.”

Frank tended to navigate by instinct, finding maps incomprehensible, so he shrugged. “Lead on, McDuff.”

Xinjiang University was one of the largest and most prestigious universities in the region, and Dr. Patrick Stumph held a guest professorship of archeology and central Asian cultures there. He worked tirelessly with local researchers and scientists, helping them preserve their own culture.

When he wasn't busy helping with archeological sites in Xinjiang, he was busy with his show, _The Mysteries of History_. It was critically acclaimed and was one of the most watched documentary shows on television. If Patrick hadn't been such a genuinely nice person, Gerard would have hated him for being so damn smart and successful.

They got lost, but Gerard was fearless with his map, accosting strangers on the bus platform and getting directions with the help of a series of pantomimed gestures. They hopped off the bus when they saw the logo for Xinjiang University, written in English, Uyghur, and Chinese, and wandered around until they found a student who spoke enough English to get them pointed in the right direction.

Gerard knocked on the door, smiling a little at the engraved plate with Patrick's name in three languages.

Patrick was immediately recognizable to Frank, from being a fan of _the Mysteries of History_. He was about Frank's height, blond, and smiling. Gerard said, " _Yaxshimusiz!_ "

Patrick winced and laughed, shaking Gerard's hand. " _Yaxshimusiz!_ " he replied, and Gerard wanted to make him say it a dozen more times so he could practice his pronunciation. "Found a Uyghur guidebook, did you?"

Gerard grinned back. He put his hand on the small of Frank's back and gently pushed him forward. "Patrick, this is my partner Frank Iero. Frank, meet Dr. Patrick Stumph."

Frank bowed slightly. " _Ni hao ma, Dr. Stumph?_ "

" _Wo hen hao, xiexie,_ " Patrick responded. "And call me Patrick, please." He turned to Gerard. "His Chinese is better than your Uyghur."

"Uyghur is fucking hard."

"So is Chinese, motherfucker," Frank protested, and Patrick laughed.

"Come in, come in," Patrick said, ushering them into the office. It was a big room, filled with books and journals, a desk covered with papers, and a low table surrounded by comfortable looking couches. "Sit, sit, Pete'll be back in a minute with some snacks, let me get you some tea in the meantime. . ."

The tea was strong and black, and sweetened with honey. Frank sighed, feeling the caffeine work its way through his body. "Almost as good as coffee."

Gerard blew on his tea, and took a sip. "Mmm. Almost."

"I spend so much time here in China that I sometimes forget coffee exists." 

Frank bit back his laughter at the look of sheer scandalized horror on Gerard's face. "Gerard loves coffee more than life, I think."

Patrick nodded, and looked up when the door clattered open, revealing Pete Wentz. Frank recognized him from the show, of course. His dark hair was buzzed short, and combined with his rather muscular build and tattoos, he looked more like a street tough than a scientist. You really couldn't judge a book by its cover.

"Pete, you remember Gerard? And this is Frank Iero, his partner in the new dinosaur show."

Pete juggled the plates he was carrying for a moment before setting them down on the table and holding out his hand to Gerard. "Hey, Gerard! Oh, man, that _T. rex_ episode had me on the edge of my seat. I totally thought you were going to get eaten!" He pulled Gerard in for a hug, laughing.

"Me, too," Gerard admitted. "Mikey read me the riot act for _hours_."

"As well he should. It was a stupid risk."

Gerard rolled his eyes, unwilling to rehash the incident _again_. "Pete, this is Frank. I don't know if you've—"

"Of course! _Super Dino Hunt_ is one of my favorites shows! Watch it all the time with the kidling."

Pete seemed to do everything at high volume and at high speed. He shook Frank's hand, then moved to the table and started uncovering the plates, fruit and buttered naan. He poured more tea and they sat down.

"I was really surprised when the FCC let Morrison go through with the purchase of Xtreme! _and_ CCN," Patrick said.

"You weren't the only one," Gerard said. "And then Morrison started trimming the fat—"

"And getting rid of _terrible_ programming. I was so happy when he cancelled _Cat Psychic_ ," Frank chortled.

"Did _Cat Psychic_ actually have good ratings?" Pete asked. 

Frank snorted. "No, the host was the son-in-law of the channel owner."

"Nice," Pete said.

"So how's this working out for you guys?" Patrick looked between Gerard and Frank. "There may be a betting pool."

Frank was fascinated. "Really? What are the possible outcomes?"

Patrick pursed his mouth primly. "I really couldn't say."

Frank laughed and toasted Patrick with tea. "Well, good luck, then."

Patrick and Pete exchanged a look, filled with fondness and. . .something _more_. It was intimate and personal, like a glance into someone's bedroom, and it felt like he was intruding.

Gerard was looking at him, eyebrow raised, and Frank gave a bare shake of his head.

* * *

"Patrick and Pete. . .they're together?" The bus ride back to Ürümqi seemed longer than the ride to the University had been.

"Yeah." Gerard folded and refolded his transit map. "Is that a problem?"

Frank picked at a loose thread on his jeans. "No, I just didn't know, but watching them together, there was _something_ , you know? A closeness, a _knowing_. . ."

Gerard sighed, wistful. "They've been together forever."

"It was nice to see." He wasn't jealous, exactly. Maybe envious was a better word for what he was feeling. He listened with half an ear as Gerard launched into a story about Pete and Patrick's early days that was straight out of a Shakespearean comedy, filled with misunderstandings and twins and. . .disguises. Gerard's face was animated, and he was using his hands to emphasize the important points and Frank's heart went _oh_.

Gerard froze. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your face, it was like a light bulb went on over your head." 

"It's nothing," he said softly, while something inside called him a liar.

* * *

"We're here at the Xinjiang Museum of Natural History with archeologist Dr. Patrick Stumph and paleogeneticist Dr. Pete Wentz. Dr. Stumph is the host of the award-winning show, _Mysteries of Histories_ and we're here to learn about another mystery, the Tarim Mummies." Gerard shook Patrick's, then Pete's hands. "Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to talk with us."

Patrick smiled. "Thank you for having us on your show."

Ray zoomed in on Frank, who was examining one of the mummies in its glass case. He straightened up and looked at the camera. "The mummies found in the region date back to 1800 BCE. It was the start of the Bronze Age in China, and elsewhere in the world, Babylon was growing into a thriving metropolis, and Hammurabi was hammering out his Code.

"Now, here's the mysterious part. The mummies, unlike the central Asian people who have lived in this area for millennia, are blond haired, with long noses and deep-set eyes. They all seem to have European, or Caucasian, features. So the questions are: who are they, where did they come from, and how did they get here?"

Ray panned over to Patrick, who went on to talk about how much information could be gathered from the mummies' clothing, their placement in the caves, what they were 'buried' with. And there was a whole other layer of information that could be gathered about their health by doing a complex forensic analysis of their remains.

Patrick led them on a short tour of the museum, talking about the different mummies that had been found, and what interesting things had been inferred from each. Pete talked more about the forensic analyses, comparing the DNA from the mummies to other ethnic groups in the area.

"We work very closely with local scientists," Patrick said. "It's _their_ history, after all."

* * *

Patrick took them out to the field site.

"The Tarim Basin is basically a desert surrounded by mountains. It's geologically isolated, and there were a string of oases along the edges of the basin that were part of the old Silk Road.

"In the 70's archeologists started finding extremely well preserved bodies in ancient burial grounds. The dry desert air and the rocky soil helped contribute to the mummification process."

Ray filmed some workers excavating a body from a burial site. It was tedious, exacting work in extremely primitive conditions. The temperature routinely climbed into the triple digits, and windstorms frequently scoured the area.

Patrick let Frank help with the excavation, showing him how to use the handbroom to move sand from the grave site to the screening area, where it would be sifted to ensure no artifacts were lost. 

Gerard enjoyed watching Frank; it was obvious that he was excited to be helping with the work. He asked intelligent, thoughtful questions, and Patrick beamed happily at him.

At the end of the day, Gerard and Frank collapsed into their tent, exhausted. "This was the best day ever," Frank mumbled, and Gerard could only agree.

* * *

A few days later, a family of Uyghurs stopped at their camp. They were nomadic traders, following the trail of oases as their people had done for centuries. 

Frank and Gerard watched, wide-eyed, because they were using wuerhosaurs as beasts of burden.

"Specifically _Wuerhosaurus homheni_ ," Frank clarified. "Several cultures in the area have been domesticating these stegosaurids for millennia; there are cave paintings that show what has been positively identified as _Wuerhosaurus ordosensis_ being corralled."

Mikey was filming the wuerhosaurs as they milled around, focusing on the riding harnesses. 

"Stegosaurids are known for having a series of upright plates lining their backs, which makes riding them in a traditional manner impossible. Those plates are distinctly smaller on wuerhosaurs, but they still get in the way of saddles. Instead, over time a simple and ingenious harnessing system was developed to allow riders to sit in small 'baskets' on either side of the stegosaurid," Gerard said.

"Wuerhosaurs have been genetically isolated in the Tarim Basin for a long time," Frank noted. "They have no natural predators, and they're supremely adapted to living in the harsh desert: their bodies need minimal water, and they get most of that from the desert grasses they graze on. You can see—"he ran his hand over the flank of one of the wuerhosaurs—"that their feathers are colored to let them blend in with the sand. The feathers, like the upright plates along their backs, are also designed to help regulate the dinosaur's body temperature by keeping a layer of cooler or warmer air close to their body."

"Evolution is amazing!" Gerard said.

"I'm generally _not_ a fan of dinosaurs being used by humans as beasts of burden, but at the same time, the Uyghurs of the region, as well as other ethnic groups, have been using wuerhosaurs since the dawn of history. The dinosaurs are part of their culture, woven through their daily lives, and are integral to the survival of their traditional way of living." Frank shrugged. "It's not my place to say it's wrong."

Ray filmed Patrick talking to the Uyghur family, while Mikey followed Frank as he spent time with the wuerhosaurs, petting their heads, examining their feet, seeing how pointy their tail spikes actually were, finding out the spots they liked getting scratched. Gerard was pretty sure that there was a new contender for the title of 'Best Day Ever'.

* * *

"Stegosaurids have always been my favorites, ever since I was a kid," Frank confessed into the darkness of their tent. "I mean, they're amazing creatures, but I always envied them their protective armor."

Gerard made a blurry, half-asleep sound, abruptly realizing that he needed to be awake for this conversation. "Protective armor?"

"Yeah." Frank sighed, and Gerard wished he could see Frank's face. "Tail spikes and dorsal plates, some of them with their shoulder spikes. . .I was small and scrawny as a kid, got picked on a lot in school. In my head, I just wished I could protect myself as easily as stegos did."

Gerard reached out into the darkness for Frank's hand, and held on tight.

## Australia

"Fucking hell," Frank muttered, looking up at the cliff. He wasn't sure he signed up for _this_. "I'm not a big fan of heights." 

Gerard looked at him. "Now is not a great time to be bringing this up."

He shrugged.

"Frank—"

Gerard was exasperated, Frank could tell. "Sorry." He fiddled with the buckle for the safety harness wrapped around his torso. "I'll be fine. Let's just do this."

"Frank." Gerard reached over and touched his arm, because that's the kind of dude he was, waiting until Frank met his eyes. "Are you sure?"

It wasn't that bad of an ascent, actually. It wasn't like real rock climbing, where they channelled Spider-Man and pulled themselves up the cliff face with the strength of their upper bodies. This was more like Climbing for Dummies, with lots of shallow 'shelves' where the pterosaurs nested. They could probably make it up without the ropes, but Brian was a stickler for safety.

Frank thought about how his stomach was twisted up with tension and how dry his mouth was, thought about what a great opportunity this was to see some pterosaurs up close, in their natural habitat. "Fuck yeah."

Gerard nodded. "All right. Roll camera!"

Ray was already part way up on the cliff face, anchored into a little niche that had a great view of not only all of the pterosaur nests, but also could film Frank and Gerard as they worked their way upward. In the meantime, Mikey was manning a camera on the ground, with Bob handling the ropes that allowed the boom mic to be pulled upward as Frank and Gerard scaled the cliff.

"We're here on the eastern coast of Australia, at the nesting grounds of two different species of pterosaurs: _Rhamphorhynchus muensteri_ and _Eudimorphodon cromptonellus_. The rhamps have colonized the lower parts of the cliffs, while the eudis are nesting on the upper reaches."

Frank took over the narration. "The rhamps are smaller pterosaurs, with wingspans of less than half a meter, while the eudis have wingspans of about a meter. Both species are fish eaters, and both are known for their colorful mating displays. The rhamps have little rudders on their long tails; scientists are still unsure exactly how the rudders tie into the aerodynamics of the rhamps." He started climbing up the cliff face, glad that Brian insisted they wear gloves to protect their hands from the rough rock.

Gerard watched Frank, and continued the narration. "Interestingly, juvenile eudis have a completely different diet than the adults, they eat only insects, and their teeth reflect the difference in diet. Once they hit a certain size, their adult teeth start growing in, and they start fishing for their food." He started his own climb, letting Frank stay a good ten feet ahead of him.

"Ow."

Gerard looked up at Frank. "You okay?"

There were three long scratches, from elbow to mid-forearm. They didn't look too deep, and were barely bleeding. "Yeah. The rocks are a lot sharper than I thought. Scraped my arm."

"Have Brendon clean it up when we're done," Gerard said. There was a rush of air as something swooped at his head. He saw a brightly feathered rhamp flap by, teeth clacking loudly. "I'm being dive bombed by a pterosaur." 

Frank looked down just in time to see a rhamp peck at Gerard's head as it flew close. "Holy shit, it's trying to eat you."

"Fuck, ouch, stop it, mothefucker," Gerard cursed, trying to frighten the rhamp away by waving his arms around. "Its teeth are sharp."

Rolling his eyes, Frank bit back a laugh. "You okay?" The rhamp wheeled away, doing a tricky-looking maneuver in the air. "I think it's done picking on you." But even as he said the words, Frank saw another rhamp heading toward Gerard. "Are you near a nest or something?"

"Ow! Maybe? I don't fucking know." Gerard climbed a little higher, looking around for something that the rhamps might be safeguarding, but he didn't see anything that might have set off their protective instincts.

"There's a couple of nests to your left," Ray said from above. "One's got a couple of hatchlings in it, the other has some eggs."

"Maybe move away from the nests," Frank said.

"Thanks for the advice," Gerard snapped. Another rhamp swooped at him, and when he tried to duck, he scraped his cheek against the rock. "Fuck!" He pressed his cheek against his shoulder, because it _hurt_ and something wet splatted on his arm. "What the—it shit on me!"

Frank laughed so hard he lost his footing, twisting his ankle as he tried to stabilize himself. "Fucking ow!"

"Serves you right," Gerard muttered under his breath.

"Son of a—" Frank's ankle hurt like a bitch when he tried to put his weight on it. "I think I sprained it."

"Seriously?"

"Okay, that's it," Brian shouted from the top of the cliff. "Down, both of you. I don't want to press our luck any further." There was a burst of static and Frank could hear Brian calling for Brendon and his first aid kit on the walkie-talkie. "We'll try again in a couple of days."

When Gerard got back onto the ground, Brendon was already there. 

"Well, you look a little worse for wear," he said, touching Gerard's chin and turning his face. "That's a pretty nasty set of scratches, and you're bleeding from a wound on your scalp."

"Damn rhamp." He stuck out his arm. "It took a shit on me, too!" The indignation that Gerard felt came through loud and clear.

"Okay, Gerard. I'm going to need you to help me get Frank taken care of, then I'll see to your wounds, okay? I'm just worried about his ankle."

They watched as Frank limped his way down the cliff, letting the ropes take a majority of his weight. 

Brendon carefully unlaced Frank's boot. "Tell me if I hurt you." He carefully manipulated Frank's foot in a number of different ways, taking note when Frank grunted in pain. "Yeah, that's a nice sprain you got there, Frank," Brendon said. "I'm going to wrap it, and you're going to spend the next couple of days in your tent with it elevated. Your best friends are going to be an ice pack and some aspirin."

"Can't, we can't lose days off the schedule, Gerard, tell him—"

Gerard laughed mirthlessly. "The schedule's padded, Frank, you know that. We did that just for situations like this." He snorted. "There's no way I'm risking the wrath of Brian; you're not getting near this cliff again until Brendon gives the all clear."

"Traitor," Frank muttered, crossing his arms. "Teacher's pet."

"Keep it up, buddy, and I won't entertain you when you're bored out of your mind and stuck in the tent."

Frank pouted.

* * *

The sweat stung his eyes, and he squinted. It was fucking hot out here on the cliff. He should have worn a hat. "See anything?"

Gerard shook his head. "Nest's empty." Except it wasn't. Two baby rhamps appeared out of nowhere, cheeping loudly. "What the fuck?"

"I thought you said it was empty," Frank snapped.

"I thought it _was_. They must have been hiding, somehow."

The cheeping attracted the attention of the parents, and suddenly Frank and Gerard were being dive-bombed by two angry rhamps. Again.

"Fuck, ow," Frank said, as the larger, more colorful rhamp snapped at him as it flew by. Clearly the male. The female was near Gerard, flapping next to his face and attempting to use the tiny claws at the tips of her wings to chase him away from the nest.

Gerard tried to protect his face by raising his arms, and the female rhamp took advantage of that, gripping the fabric of his shirt with her feet and _ripping_. "Fuck!" He flailed, off balance, and ended up hugging the cliff face for dear life. The female got in a couple more attacks before being satisfied that Gerard wasn't a threat, and flew away to comfort her hatchlings.

Frank shuffled over to check on Gerard. "You okay?"

Gerard's shirt was in tatters, and he looked much worse for wear, covered in bleeding scratches. "No, not really."

"There's gotta be a better way to do this," Frank mumbled. They'd been trying to get some decent footage for a week, and they were covered with battle scars; so far, the rhamps were winning. And the idea of dealing with the larger eudis was terrifying.

"Time for a strategic retreat, I think," Frank said, signalling Brian. "This isn't working."

* * *

Gerard was frustrated, and instead of continuing to take it out on innocent bystanders, he took a walk. There was a small stream near their camp, and he followed it until he was far enough away that he could pretend he was alone in the forest.

It was quiet and peaceful, and Gerard could forget about his responsibilities for a bit, and—

"Hey, you okay?" Frank dropped to the ground next to him, bumping their shoulders together. "Greta says you yelled at Bert for offering Vegemite for breakfast."

Gerard sighed. "I didn't mean to. I already apologized _twice_ and told Bert that I've always appreciated his insistence at including local foods into our menus."

"Hmm." Frank reached out and cupped the back of Gerard's neck, squeezing gently. "You're tense."

"I know." He rolled his shoulders and dropped his head down, letting Frank work on the knotted muscles. He slanted a glance at Frank, at the way his tongue poked out of his mouth as he concentrated on what he was doing, and Gerard found himself leaning close, pressing a kiss to Frank's mouth.

Frank's eyes met his in surprise, and they stared at each other. And then Gerard kissed him again, licking at Frank's lips, wanting to taste him. It had been too long since they'd kissed in the parking lot after the presentation to Grant.

Frank made a hungry sound and opened his mouth, letting Gerard in.

"Hey, Gerard—"

Frank and Gerard sprung apart like they'd been shocked.

"Sorry," Ray mumbled. "Didn't mean—I'll see you guys back at camp." He disappeared into the forest.

Gerard wanted to kiss Frank again, but he wouldn't meet Gerard's eyes, and the moment had passed. "Let's go back," he said, getting to his feet and holding out his hand to help Frank up.

Frank put his hand into Gerard's, and Gerard levered him up.

* * *

Ray, Mikey, Bob and Brian ended up figuring out a rigging system that allowed them to lower the cameras down the cliff face to get the footage they needed. It wasn't ideal, but they were losing too much time to fending off pterosaur attacks, and Frank and Gerard were both starting to look like refugees from _Edward Scissorhands_.

"I wish this had worked out," Frank said. Ray was filming some baby rhamps frolicking in their nest, while Frank and Gerard waited below, Mikey fiddling with the camera and getting ready to film their closing remarks. "I really wanted to observe the rhamps in their natural setting."

"Me, too. But honestly, I'm happier not being attacked by angry pterosaurs." His arms, like Frank's, were covered with an assortment of bandages, injuries received from both the cliff face and the protective rhamps.

"Yeah." The last few weeks had been kinda hellish. There'd been a high number of random injuries and illnesses among the crew, ranging from scratches and cuts and sprained ankles to stomach flu and parasitic infestations.

"You ready?" Mikey asked.

"Yeah. You wanna start, Gerard?"

"Sure." He cleared his throat. "Pterosaurs are probably one of the most common dinosaurs in the world, pretty much ubiquitous across the globe. They're important—"

A rhamp swooped into their field of view and landed on Frank's shoulder, a female by the size of her. Frank froze and watched her cautiously from the corner of his eye. 

"She's sizing you up," Gerard said. "I'm not sure—"

The rhamp cheeped and moved closer to Frank's face, and started rubbing her feathered body against his head, bobbing her body and making happy little sounds.

"What the—"

"I think she's trying to mate with you, Frank." The was a tremble of laughter in Gerard's voice; he was trying hard not to giggle.

The rhamp continued to undulate against Frank's head, flapping her wings and cooing happily. Gerard finally lost it at the resignation on Frank's face. "Such a ladies' man," he hiccuped through his laughter. "Bringing all the ladies to the yard."

"Fuck off," Frank growled, trying to keep the enthusiastic rhamp from taking out an eye.

Gerard just howled with laughter.

Later, Gerard tried to apologize by helping clean and disinfect all the scratches the amorous rhamp had left behind, humming under his breath.

* * *

The scream was piercing, and woke Gerard up out of a sound sleep. It was dark, so he fumbled with the electric lantern, struggling to turn in on while Frank fought off whatever animal that was intent on devouring him.

The light was blinding, and it took a few seconds for Gerard's eyes to adjust, but when they did, he found Frank backed into the corner of the tent, hyperventilating and making small, broken sounds as he pointed at—

A spider.

Gerard had to admit it was a rather large spider, but—oh. "Hey, no, no, Frank, I'll take care of it, it's okay, I won't let it hurt you." He struggled free of his sleeping bag and moved toward Frank, hands outstretched.

"Get it out get it out oh my god get it out please please oh fuck!" Frank's legs pedalled furiously as he tried to get further away from the spider, bare feet slipping on the slick canvas of the tent floor. 

"Shhh, it's okay, Frank, I promise, I'll take care of this." He moved between Frank and the spider, trying to focus on capturing the spider, rather that how terrified Frank was. It was an Australian Huntsman spider; he'd been hoping to see one while they were visiting. They were big and fast, but harmless. They rarely bit people and they weren't particularly venomous.

Which really wasn't helpful to someone like Frank, who obviously was phobic about spiders, as many people were.

"Stay right there, Frank, I'm going to take care of this." Gerard cupped his hands and moved slowly, herding the spider. It climbed onto his fingers with some coaxing, tickling him with its legs. "What a good spider you are," he crooned softly. "Gonna take you outside where you belong, so you don't scare poor Frank any more. I know you didn't mean to frighten him, but you did, and you shouldn't be hanging around inside our tent, there's not a lot for you to eat in here, so much better for you to be outside. . ." Once the spider was sitting on his arm, Gerard unzipped the tent and went out.

There was a small group of people milling around; Frank's scream of terror had apparently woken up a good portion of the camp. "It's all right, just a spider, Frank's okay, everything's okay," Gerard said quietly. Ray and Brian came closer to check out the spider, exclaiming over its size, letting it walk on their arms before Gerard set it loose on the ground well away from the tent. "Be free, little spider."

"Not really little," Mikey muttered, slapping Gerard's shoulder before heading back to his own tent.

Frank was still wedged into the corner of the tent, and Gerard could see that he was shaking. He'd had some experience in dealing with people with spider phobias, so he moved closer to Frank. Slowly, he reached out and squeezed Frank's shoulder, trying to reassure him. 

"I want you to stay right here, Frank. I'm going to shake out all of the blankets and our clothes, just in case there are other spiders. I know you won't be able to sleep if you're worried about more spiders, and you need to get some sleep, you've had a rough night." Gerard pitched his voice low and calm, like he was trying to sooth a wild animal. "Okay?"

Frank pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, nodding shakily. "O-okay."

"All right. It won't take long, so I want you to concentrate on your breathing, in and out, in and out. . ."

While Frank sat and mindfully breathed, Gerard grabbed their bedding and took it out of the tent, shaking it vigorously to ensure there were no more eight-legged guests. He did the same with their clothing, and then poked around their belongings, because Huntsman spiders liked to hide under things. Frank didn't need any more surprises tonight.

"No more spiders," he said, looking a Frank. He'd gained some of his color back, but Gerard could still see the occasional tremor.

"You sure?" Frank's voice was small.

"Yep, I'm sure. I'm going to rearrange our sleeping bags so you're further away from the entrance, but that's just a precaution. I don't think we'll have any more unexpected visitors while we're here."

Gerard got everything laid out, coaxed Frank into his sleeping bag, covered him with a light blanket, and turned the electric lantern down, but not off. He didn't want Frank to wake up later and panic in the darkness. He laid down next to Frank, adjusted his pillow until it was perfect, and reached out for Frank's hand. 

He held onto Frank, let Frank squeeze his fingers hard, until Frank drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Gerard woke to find Frank curled in his arms, his face buried against Gerard's chest. He let his hands drift down Frank's back, enjoying the feeling of Frank warm and close, and listened to Frank breathe until he fell back to sleep.

## The Dakotas

The A.L. Lawrence Dinosaur Rehabilitation Center was located in Green Grass, South Dakota. It was a facility that specialized in rehabilitating dinosaurs that had been abused, kept as pets, or used by humans as work animals. If there was any possibility of returning the dinosaur to its natural habitat as a wild animal, the volunteers and employees worked hard to ensure that outcome.

For those animals that were too hurt, too tame, too old to return to the wild, the Center healed them and gave them a place to be safe.

When Frank had been a teenager, he'd volunteered as a summer intern. It had been simultaneously the most rewarding, and the most heartbreaking thing he'd ever done. It was also where he'd first heard about Anarchy for Animals; a couple of the other volunteers had given him some pamphlets, shown him some web sites.

"Anarchy for Animals?" Gerard's eyes got really wide. "Frank—"

Frank could feel a blush heating his face. "Yeah, I know, I know."

" _Frank_ —"

"I _know_." He rubbed at his face. "I was _really_ young, and _really_ fucking naive."

Gerard lowered his voice. "Are you a fugitive. . .from _justice_?"

Frank looked at him. "You are ridiculous." He rubbed at his nose. "Because I was underage, I was charged as a juvenile, and so my records are sealed. In the eyes of the law, I'm clean."

Grinning, Gerard laughed; Frank couldn't help but join in, because Gerard's laugh was loud and silly. "You're such a delinquent." They got out of their rented car and stretched their legs. It'd been a bit of a drive from where they'd been filming some ankylosaur herds.

They'd made arrangements with the Center and invited Grant Morrison out for a visit, to give him a chance to interact with dinosaurs up close, a rare opportunity. The Center strongly discouraged visitors, because most were what Frank called 'armchair activists' who had no real understanding of the issues and were unwilling to do the hard work necessary in helping rehabilitate dinosaurs. 

Both Frank and Gerard had worked tirelessly to get the unofficial stamp of approval from the bigger animal protection groups: they emphasized that dinosaurs were _not_ pets, but wild animals that should be left alone, unmolested and unmonetized.

"I hate that word," Frank said as Ray set up the camera. They were taking the opportunity to film some segments about the Center. The Center did admirable work with dinosaurs, and good publicity never hurt.

"Yeah, the first time I'd heard it was years ago, when the owner of Ocean World kept using it, like that was going to somehow convince me that it was okay for him to be keeping those plesiosaurs at the park."

"Was that before or after you punched him in the nose?" Frank remembered the news article he'd read, how Ocean World's owner had declined to press charges, and the accompanying picture of Gerard, disheveled and angry, being restrained by two big security guards. 

"Fuck off," Gerard mumbled.

Frank couldn't stop laughing.

* * *

"Grant!"

"How was the trip out here?"

Frank held out his hand for a shake, which Grant used to pull him in for a hard hug. He returned it with enthusiasm. He really _liked_ Grant, now that they were past the whole threat of show cancellation thing.

Grant Morrison was, as always, sharply dressed, even in casual clothes. He'd taken to heart Frank's warning that he'd get dirty at the Center, but he still managed to look like he'd just stepped out of a fashion magazine.

"Afternoon, lads. The trip was awwfy tiring," Grant answered, "but worth it; it's gorgeous here."

It was. Most of South Dakota was rural, nothing but stretches of open skies and grasslands, punctuated with small towns and stunning geological formations.

"Okay, so here's the plan," Frank said. "We're going to meet with Dr. Mary Brave Bird, the director of this place, and she's going to give us a tour of the Center, talk about what the Center does, mission statements and all that. Then we're going to meet up with one of the on-site vets, who will show us some of the animals that are currently being rehabilitated. And after that, we'll get to meet Sue."

Gerard did a double take. "Sue? Seriously, Frank? We get to meet Sue? Holy shit!"

"Who's Sue?" Grant asked, curiosity bright in his eyes.

"You'll see," Gerard said, clutching at Grant's arm. "Oh my God, you have no idea!"

* * *

Dr. Mary Brave Bird was a wildlife biologist who had a knack for dealing with bureaucracies and administrivia. "I was an average biologist, but I was _great_ at fundraising. I figured I needed to use the talents I had for the benefit of the animals," she explained. She looked to be in her fifties, dark hair cut short and neat, clearly Native American. The handshake she gave Gerard was strong and confident, and she quickly charmed Grant as she gave them a tour of the Center.

"The Center is on about five thousand acres of land, and we lease an additional forty thousand acres from local tribes." She scrunched up her face. "It's not ideal, but. . .dinosaurs take up a lot of space. We're in the heart of Lakota country, so we try to give back to the tribe. We attempt to hire locally and put our money into the local economy. I grew up in this area, so it's important to me."

"Community's important; I understand that. I _feel_ that," Grant said, hand resting over his heart for a moment. "I grew up in a kinda rough neighborhood myself." His accent grew thicker. "Poverty, crime, despair, and the only thing holding us together was our family and our pals."

Mary nodded. "Yes, exactly."

* * *

They were introduced to Dr. Gabriel Saporta, the head veterinarian.

"Call me Gabe," he said. "I'm a big fan of both of your shows, you guys have done so much to help educate people around the world about dinosaurs."

Frank blushed and Gerard stammered and Grant laughed at them both as Gabe showed them the medical facilities. "We're equipped to handle just about anything here. Right now, we have about four hundred permanent residents that for one reason or another can't be returned to the wild. We rehome some of those, especially the smaller animals, at other refuges and sanctuaries, if we can. 

“Additionally, we've got about fifteen temporary residents in various stages of rehabilitation; those we'll return to the wild as soon as they're ready."

They looked in on a troodon being exercised on a treadmill. It was a smaller dinosaur, about three feet tall, and eight feet long. 

"This is T15. Broke her foot in a trap set out by hunters, but since they were hunting for bigger game, they just let her go. With her foot broken, there was no way T15 could survive, she couldn't hunt, and she couldn't escape from larger predators. Someone rescued her and she was brought to us." Gabe grinned. "She's just about ready to go home."

"Success stories," Mary said.

* * *

They went out a back door and walked a little ways to a fenced paddock attached to a wooden structure, much like a horse stall but bigger.

Gerard was practically vibrating with excitement, which was understandable. Frank had met Sue when he'd interned at the Center, all those years ago, and it had been a pretty defining moment in his life. He got it.

They stood at the edge of the paddock, and Gabe put two fingers into his mouth and whistled, loud and piercing.

There was an answering call from the structure, sort of a cross between a snort and a chirp.

"Come out of there, silly girl. You've got visitors."

There was another chirp, and Sue the _T. rex_ ducked out of her stall and into the paddock. Grant gasped in surprise. She was the largest _T. rex_ in captivity, forty two feet long from nose to tail-tip. 

"Jesus wept, she's enormous!" Grant said breathlessly.

"And beautiful," Gerard added.

Sue was a pale green color, with brown, green, and yellow feathers striping her body, perfect for hiding in the tall grasses of the savanna, like her ancestors had done for millions of years. She walked with a noticeable limp, and she held one of her clawed forelimbs close to her body, like it was injured.

Frank held out his hand and Sue leaned down and sniffed, the sound loud in the still air. After a moment, she nudged at Frank's hand, demanding scritches like a eleven thousand pound cat.

"She has no idea that she's an apex predator. She's from Africa. Poachers killed her parents and captured her when she was a few weeks old, and in the process they'd injured her arm. She was rescued by a family who decided to keep her as a pet, possibly not realizing exactly how _big_ she was going to get. . ." Gabe showed Grant the best places on her head to scratch, laughing at the way Sue wiggled happily, chirping and groaning.

"And the limp?" Gerard asked.

"Old age. She's almost forty; the oldest _T. rex_ on recorded lived to fifty-one," Gabe explained softly, like he didn't want Sue to overhear what he was saying.

"I don't understand. Don't predators have instincts that tell them to hunt?" Grant rubbed his fingers over Sue's feathers, making her claw at the ground with her left foot, much like a dog shaking its leg during belly rubs.

Gabe shrugged. "Most do. Even so called 'tame' animals usually have a streak of wildness in them, an unpredictability that makes them dangerous." He patted Sue's nose. "I think that Sue was just born different. If she'd been left alone, I don't think she would have survived, she doesn't have the aggression and drive that predators need."

"She's just a herbivore in a carnivore's body, aren't you, sweetie? Who's a good dinosaur?" Frank cooed.

Gerard was fascinated by the texture of Sue's skin between the feathers, smooth and hairless, and warm. He could feel the muscles under her skin, and watched as she flexed, causing her feathers to lift and shift. "Wow." 

Frank smiled. "Amazing, yeah?"

Looking up, all Gerard could see was feathers and teeth. He never thought he'd be standing this close to a _T. rex_ and not be running for his life. "She's great."

The look on Grant's face was the perfect picture of awestruck happiness as Sue leaned down and rubbed her head against Grant's body, almost knocking him over. "She likes you," Gabe said, and impossibly, Grant's smile got bigger.

* * *

They stopped at a dingy diner in Green Grass for some coffee, and tea for Grant.

"I got a letter from the insurance company."

Gerard winced, and Frank managed to look apologetic _and_ defiant.

"What happened?" Grant took a sip of his tea and shuddered, clearly unhappy with what was labeled 'tea' by the Green Grass Café. He set the cup down and pushed it away.

Gerard made a face at the selection of sweeteners on the table: sugar and pink stuff. He absolutely hated the pink stuff, so he went with the sugar. "We're working with wild animals. Brian does his damndest to make sure no one gets hurt, but accidents still happen.

"We were filming some mixed ankylosaurus herds, and a pack of allosaurs snuck up on us, panicked the ankylos into stampeding, and we got caught in the middle.

"Two cameras and assorted accessories were absolutely destroyed. Except, somehow, the footage from one of the cameras." Gerard took a sip of his coffee. "Ray's a little upset; I had to promise to upgrade the replacement cameras."

"Sounds like it was a frightening experience," Grant said.

Frank tried not to remember how terrified he was when he'd lost his grip on Gerard's arm, that endless moment when he saw Gerard bowled over by an ankylo ( _Euoplocephalus tutus_ , his brain had helpfully provided), and the way his heart clenched and then skipped a beat when he saw that Gerard was all right, just bruised and battered. "Yeah."

Gerard reached under the table for Frank's hand, squeezing it tight before letting go.

"The insurance company's paying up, of course. They're unhappy about it, and they're squawking about raising the rates, but that's irrelevant. What's important's no one got hurt." Grant smiled. "I find myself growing quite fond of the two of you, and it would be a bit of a shame if you got eaten."

Frank beamed. "Thanks, Grant."

"We don't want to be eaten, either." 

Grant fiddled with his spoon. "Thank you for today, lads. I've loved dinosaurs since I was a boy and today was something of a dream come true for me."

Frank and Gerard looked at each other. _This_ was one of the reasons they did what they did, sharing their love of dinosaurs with people. They liked making people happy.

"We're glad," Frank said, and Gerard nodded and smiled.

## Texas

As punishment, Brian gave Gerard a pair of pliers and the tires from the Land Rover. "Ray wants footage of the teeth being pulled from the tires."

"But it wasn't my fault!" Gerard was getting tired of saying it, but it was true.

Brian just crossed his arms, his foot tapping impatiently on the floor of the garage. "You exited the vehicle while two large, dangerous predators were nearby."

"Fuck, Brian, if I hadn't, that kid and Frank would have gotten eaten!" Gerard wouldn't apologize for that.

"I had a backup plan. _And_ a backup plan for my backup plan. You knew that. But you jumped the gun and put _everyone_ at risk."

Gerard looked at the pliers in his hand. "I forgot." 

"Don't." There was something in Brian's voice that made Gerard look up. "I can't work like this, Gerard. Don't do it again, or you'll be looking for a new safety coordinator."

"Bri—"

"No. I'm serious, Gerard. I don't think you realize how close it was. That was a mated pair of _Albertosaurus sarcophagus_ and you were out there, unprotected, looking and smelling like a tasty little snack. I understand that you were worried about Frank and the kid, but you fucked up and almost got yourself killed." He made a gesture like he was throwing something away. "And I don't want your fucking blood on my hands."

He walked away, and Gerard let him go.

* * *

The albertosaurs had chased Gerard back to his Land Rover, and after they realized they couldn't get to him, they'd spent the remainder of their time pushing and shoving at the vehicle. It was nothing but bad luck that the wheels had caught on a large outcropping of rock; it was the leverage the dinosaurs had needed to tip the Rover onto its roof.

Ray, like camera operators everywhere, continued to film even while hanging upside by his seatbelt as Gerard described how albertosaurs would try to flip over ankylosaurs to get at their unarmored underside. Apparently Land Rover bellies weren't as tasty as ankylosaur bellies, and the albertosaur pair had taken their frustrations out on the tires, biting and tearing at the tough rubber and leaving behind teeth and gaping holes.

Most tyrannosaurids, like sharks, never stopped growing new teeth and Brian's plan of impressing upon Gerard how stupid he'd been involved pulling the broken teeth out of the thick rubber of the tires. It wasn't until Gerard nicked himself on the serrated edge of one of the teeth that the seriousness of what happened really started to sink in.

"I think I might have really fucked up." He stuck his bleeding finger in his mouth.

"Mmmhmmm," Ray said, from behind the camera. He zoomed in for a close up of a tooth that had been pulled free from the tire, focusing on the serrations.

"Those serrations have rounded voids at the bottom," Gerard said. "They're called ampulla." He made a grabbing and twisting motion when the camera panned back to him. "Tyrannosaurid teeth aren't designed for shearing, but for crunching bone and tearing. The ampulla displace the stress forces, keeping the albertosaur's teeth from cracking. Evolutionary advantage, survival of the fittest." He looked at the cut on his finger. "I'm sorry I put you in danger, Ray."

Ray's head popped out from behind the camera, surprised. "I think I would be surprised if you didn't throw us headlong into danger, Gee. That's what you _do_ , and that's what I signed up for. But I understand why Brian's upset, because you haven't been trusting him to do his job. I think your feelings for Frank are clouding your judgment, when it comes to Frank's safety."

"What feelings?"

Ray just rolled his eyes and pushed his hair out of his face. "Are we really going there?"

Gerard knew a losing battle when he saw one. "I'll try harder to keep that in mind. And to let Brian do his job. But I'm still sorry we almost got eaten."

Ray smiled, fond. "It was worth it, to get the footage we got."

* * *

"Just don't tell Frank."

"Don't tell me what?"

The crew skittered away, Greta and Vicky-T heading back toward the equipment trailers, Bert toward the food trailer that was his domain, Shaun and Bob back toward the temporary office. That left Chantal, looking comically surprised.

"What's up?" Frank asked, ambling closer. He liked Chantal a lot, she was smart, sassy, and didn't put up with bullshit from anyone. She was the best damn mechanic he'd ever seen, and she'd been the camp karaoke champion for three months straight. He recognized a kindred punk troublemaker in her. 

"This is Texas. They do all kinds of stupid shit here." She shrugged. "Some of us were at a bar a couple of days ago, got wind of a dino fighting operation at a farm around here."

It was amazing how fast he could get royally pissed off. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Nope," Chantal said. She dug in her pocket and came up with a business card. "They were trying to drum up some customers." She handed it to Frank.

"Bad Newz Stables and Farm, by appointment only," he read. He flipped the card over. "10 P.M. Thursday through Sunday." He crumpled the card, then thought better of it. "Gerard! Gerard!" He looked back at Chantal as he went in search of Gerard. "Thanks, Chantal!"

He found Gerard in the editing trailer, looking over some footage with Ray. "Gerard, we've got a problem."

"Hmmm?" 

"There's a fucking dino fighting op in the area. We gotta do something, there's probably dozens of animals being abused and—" He could feel his blood boiling, he was so fucking angry.

"Wait, wait, what? Slow down, back up, Frank. Where did you hear about this?"

"Some of the crew were approached by a sleazebag at the bar. Place called Bad Newz, right outside of town. Apparently they run fights four days a week. We should go and bust some heads." It would feel good to work out his anger on some assholes who liked to torture and hurt innocent animals.

Gerard looked Frank over. He was short and a little scrawny, but his shoulders were broad and Gerard knew from experience how physically _strong_ Frank was. But that didn't mean they should rush out and confront a bunch of animal abusing douches.

Animal fights tended to bring in the money, which in turn led to strong criminal associations, and really, Gerard had no desire to be shot and buried in an anonymous grave in the desert. "Hold on, Frank. I've got a friend in law enforcement; let me give her a call and see if this place is on anyone's radar."

Frank waited, pacing impatiently, while Gerard talked to his friend Kitty, who was in charge of the FBI's blood sport division. They'd met, years ago, when she'd accidentally arrested Gerard, who had gone to a dinosaur fight with a hidden camera, intent on gathering evidence for the authorities. He'd testified against the perpetrators in that instance, and had been called on as an expert witness in a few other cases.

"Stay away from there, Gerard," she said. "Bad Newz is part of the Los Zetas drug cartel, and those guys are serious fucking business. Yeah, we know about that place, but it's tied up in a larger operation. That's all I can say."

"All right, thanks, Kitty. Keep me updated, yeah?"

"Yeah, I will. And stay away from that place. I'm serious, Gerard. Don't try to be a hero."

"Okay, okay, jeez." He ended the call and looked at Frank. "Yeah, it's part of an active investigation."

Frank made a circular motion with his hand.

"It's part of a drug cartel, Frank. We need to stay away from that shit."

"We can be careful," Frank argued. "Ray's got that fancy night vision setup for the camera, maybe we can get some footage of people showing up for the fights, we could turn it over as evidence. . ."

"I don't think—"

"C'mon, Gerard," Frank said softly. "Think of the poor dinosaurs, the terrible lives they have, full of fear and pain, being forced to fight to the death for entertainment, for fucking _sport_. . ."

Gerard could feel himself weakening. "But—"

"We'll be careful. . ."

"Frank—"

Frank looked at him, and his eyes were wide and dark, and Gerard knew it wasn't fair, but he couldn't say 'no' to those eyes. . . "If we get into trouble—"

"I'll take the heat, I promise."

Sighing, Gerard shook his head at himself. He was so fucked. "All right."

Frank pumped his fist in the air. "You get Ray and his camera, I'll get my kit."

* * *

Frank's 'kit' made Gerard wonder if he'd actually given up his association with Anarchy for Animals. Inside the knapsack were bolt cutters, a crow bar, some epoxy, a military-grade flashlight, three flares, duct tape, zip ties, a ski mask, eye black. . .

"That's a pretty interesting kit, Frank," Ray noted wryly. Mikey just hummed noncommittally.

Gerard had run into Mikey while looking for Ray, and he had never, ever been able to lie to Mikey, so when Mikey had asked "What's up?" Gerard had told him. And then he insisted on coming along, just to make sure that Gerard stayed out of trouble.

"Frank—" Concerned, Gerard was feeling very concerned about this. "Are you still working with Anarchy for Animals?" He admired their goals, but he was not a fan of their methods. He didn't give a damn about property damage, but people had gotten hurt.

"Oh, fuck no. Those people are really crazy. They don't care who they hurt, and I can't be a part of that." He grinned. "But I learned a lot from them, and it's good to be prepared."

Like a punk rock boy scout. 

Ray pulled out a map. "Here's where the stables are located. We can take one of the vehicles, drive to here." He pointed to a spot on the map. "And then hike the rest of the way, following the road but staying off of it. That way there's no engine noise; no one will know we're there."

"Sounds like a plan," Frank said happily.

The bolt cutters actually came in handy; Frank used them to cut through the chain-link fence that surrounded the stables. They found an empty shed at the outskirts of the compound that gave them a great view of where all the activity was taking place. Ray and Mikey setup the camera and started recording, trying to catch the faces of people as they arrived.

Gerard lost track of Frank for a moment, and then next thing he knew, Frank had slipped out of the shed and was sneaking closer to the stables, moving from one shadow to another.

"Fuck," Gerard hissed. "Gonna kill him."

They watched as Frank disappeared around the corner. 

He was gone for probably twenty minutes, though it felt like so much longer. Every sound, every movement made Gerard twitch, thoughts of all the things that might happen to Frank looming large in his brain, while Mikey frowned at him. "Stop it," he mouthed.

Gerard _tried_ , but his anxiety was overwhelming. If Frank got caught, there was no way he wouldn't mouth off, because he was an idiot like that, and then things would end very, very badly. Just when he didn't think he could wait another second and was working up the nerve to go looking for Frank, he reappeared, skulking back toward them.

Mikey pulled Frank into the relative safety of the shed, and Gerard was so relieved he wanted to hug Frank, but something about the way he held himself, and the grim line of his mouth, made him reconsider. "You okay?" he whispered.

Frank shook his head, and a moment later, there was the scream of an animal, and the roar of a crowd. Gerard touched his shoulder; Frank was shivering, and he couldn't help himself anymore, he pulled Frank close. Frank let himself lean against Gerard, trying to forget about what he'd seen. It was going to give him nightmares for months.

* * *

Brian read them the riot act. Grant held a conference call and read them the riot act in an accent that got progressively thicker as the call went on. Kitty threatened them with arrest and imprisonment and the witness protection program. Jamia and Lindsey called to cuss them out, taking turns and using language that would make a sailor blush. 

And in the end, none of that mattered, because what they got on tape was enough to spur the investigation into high gear and close to two hundred people were arrested across five states and three countries. Fifty-three animals were rescued and sent to various rehabilitation centers. 

Frank was certain that some of the animals had been euthanized as well, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to ask, and no one volunteered the information. It was better that way.

Kitty managed to keep their names out of the reports, but Frank and Gerard took the time to film a few PSAs for some animal welfare groups, including the Society for the Protection and Care of Dinosaurs (SPCD).

Frank never spoke about what he'd seen that night.

## Pacific Ocean

Ray made the 'rolling' gesture, and Frank started talking.

"Today we're hoping to see some mosasaurs." He threw out his arm to indicate the ocean behind him. "Mosasaurs are some of the largest creatures living in the oceans today, rivaling mammalian whales in size, some reaching at least 50 feet long. They have four flippers they use like rudders to steer themselves as they swim through the upper parts of the ocean at high speeds, chasing down their prey."

"They're not true dinosaurs," Gerard added. "They're more closely related to lizards, and they mainly hunt by sound, since their eyesight and sense of smell are both poorly developed. Because of their size, they require a lot of food, so mosasaurs will eat just about anything: fish, turtles, squids, jellyfish, sharks, dolphins, whales, other mosasaurs."

Frank bounced on his feet a little, his excitement palatable. "But hopefully not people!"

"Well, there haven't been any recorded instances of people being eaten by mosasaurs, though there are stories among many cultures about ships being attacked by 'sea monsters' that sound an awful lot like mosasaurs."

Ray panned the camera to the little dinghy that Frank and Gerard would be in, while the rest of the crew watched and filmed from a distance. The name _Minnow_ was carefully stenciled onto the bow.

"Mosasaurs are notoriously shy around larger boats, so we're going to see if they'll come near while we're in the _Minnow_." Frank hefted two buckets into the dinghy. "We've got some chum to attract their attention, and Brian the Safety Guy will be standing by with harmless depth charges to frighten away any mosasaurs if things get dangerous."

Brian waved irritably when the camera panned to him. "No one's going to get eaten."

"I hope not," Gerard said.

* * *

"Are you sure it's safe?"

Ray was still filming, but they were off-script, so Gerard wasn't too worried about sounding like a total wuss.

Frank managed to refrain from rolling his eyes, but only just barely. After all the things they've done, almost falling off cliffs, pissing off gun-toting ranchers in Texas, being chased by hungry theropods, and _this_ is what Gerard is worried about?

"It's totally safe, Gerard," Chantal said. She rapped on the hull of the tiny little boat. "Reinforced fiberglass. It'll stand up to a lot of damage."

"That's good, I suppose," Gerard said. He was dubious, and _now_ Frank felt totally justified in rolling his eyes. 

"It's fine, Chantal. _We're_ fine," Frank said.

She nodded, her orange-blond ponytail bobbing. "The _Orca's_ gonna be anchored about 50 yards away, keeping a close eye on you. If anything goes wrong, we'll see it, but just in case, you've got your flare guns." 

Frank patted the bulky gun-shape at his waist.

Brian pointed to the 55 gallon drums secured on the deck of the _Orca_. "The depth charges. Just in case. But it probably won't come to that."

Gerard knew all of this; they'd gone over it repeatedly, back in Jersey during the planning stages, and during the safety meetings once they'd arrived in Hawaii. "Let's hope not," Gerard mumbled. He took a deep, fortifying breath. "Okay, let's do this."

He didn't look at Frank as they were set adrift, two men on a tiny boat with a couple of buckets of chopped up fish. He was sure he was being ridiculous, but he didn't need to see it confirmed on Frank's face. 

Frank waited until the _Orca_ dropped anchor and gave the all-clear before offering a bucket to Gerard. "Would sir enjoy some well-aged fish?" he asked in a swanky accent. "Served in the most fashionable mosasaur restaurants around town. . ."

Gerard grinned, and then caught a whiff. "Fuck, that's rank." He grabbed the bucket and dumped the contents in a careful semi-circle around his end of the boat.

"S'enough to put me off of fish forever," Frank agreed.

"Frank, you're a vegetarian. You don't eat fish."

"My point." And for the first time since they'd boarded the _Orca_ , Frank noticed what Gerard was wearing. "Do you actually have _two_ life vests on?" He randomly slopped his bucket of chum into the water, grimacing at the sight of fishy heads floating in the calm sea. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of something. "Look, Gee."

They both stood up in the dinghy, watching as a shadowy shape passed under them. It was absolutely _huge_ , Frank thought it was probably in excess of 60 feet long. 

" _Mosasaurus hoffmanni_ ," Gerard murmured in awe. "Look at the shape of the jaw, the placement of the ventral fins—"

"We're gonna need a bigger boat."

Gerard pried his eyes away from the mosasaur to glare at Frank. "Not funny, motherfucker. I can't swim."

"You don't need to swim," he retorted. "You're wearing _two_ life jackets."

It _was_ ridiculous. "I feel like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man." He tugged at one of the life jackets, trying to pull it down a bit.

"You look like him, too."

"Fuck off, Fra—"

Both of them got knocked off balance when the mosasaur bumped into the boat. It circled them, yellow and blue stripes flashing under the water, before nudging repeatedly at the boat. 

"Holy shit, Gee!" Frank settled down low and leaned over the water, staring at the mosasaur. It peered back at him with one eye, curious.

"Frank, not so far! You're gonna get eaten!" Gerard grabbed Frank's arm and held tight; he didn't want him to fall in. 

"Am not! Look, he's watching us."

The mosasaur was keeping a single eye oriented toward them, its huge head parallel with the water's surface, the rest of its striped body gradually fading away under deeper water. It opened its mouth, displaying a wealth of four-inch long teeth.

"There's not a thing in the world it can't eat," Frank noted.

This close, the mosasaur's scales were clearly visible, little rectangle shapes in rich hues of yellow and blue that allowed the mosasaur a degree of camouflage in the shallow depths it inhabited. "Look at the scales!" Gerard whispered excitedly.

The mosasaurus blinked and submerged, swimming close to the dinghy and nudging at it with its head. The bow lifted out of the water a little and both Frank and Gerard gripped the sides of the boat, just in case. 

Gerard wasn't sure if this was play behavior or hunting behavior, or some combination of the two, but either way, he hoped that the mosasaurus didn't damage the boat. He pulled out his notebook and started taking notes, trying to quickly sketch the mosasaur.

Frank stood up. "Oh, it's leaving." He sounded so disappointed, and Gerard got to his feet as well. 

"There'll be plenty of other chances to—"

Gerard didn't have time to finish the sentence as the shadowed outline of the mosasaur turned and headed back toward them, picking up speed with strong strokes of its tail fin. It was coming straight for them, and Gerard knew that there was no way their dinghy would survive a direct hit from a multi-ton animal—

"Holy motherfucking shit!" Frank screeched, and at the very last moment, the mosasaur turned sharply and _leapt_ part way out of the water, graceful and terrifying, before crashing back down. Frank and Gerard were instantly drenched by the backsplash and the dinghy bobbed alarmingly on the series of waves created by the mosasaur.

As they watched, the creature breached twice more as it swam away, pushing its body out of the water, scales gleaming in the sunlight. They looked at each other, shocked and amazed, their laughter ringing out loudly against the silence.

Frank leaned over and gave Gerard a quick, smacking kiss, unable to stop grinning.

* * *

Ray panned the camera up and down the beach before focusing on Brian. It was windy; his short hair was almost standing straight up in the breeze. Bob was struggling to keep the boom pole and mic close enough to catch Brian's words.

"He called it a 'dead cat on a stick,'" Frank said, gesturing to Bob. "I'd never heard it called that before."

Gerard chuckled. "Well, the movie industry is filled with all kinds of slang." He squinted at the fake-fur covered boom mic. "I mean, it almost looks like an animal of some sort."

"Yeah, but it freaked me the fuck when he first said it. I thought I was gonna have to report him to the ASPCA."

Gerard shook his head. "You're silly, Frank."

"Your face is silly," Frank shot back, straining forward a little to try to catch what Brian was saying.

"Okay, cut," Ray shouted. "Let's try that again." He made some adjustments to his camera while Brian swung his arms around, trying to shake off the tension that was clear in the set of his shoulders. He was worried about what they were going to do, and it showed.

"We had to create a camera blind that would not only hide us from the plesiosaurs and let us capture them in their natural environment, but we also needed something to protect us from the plesiosaurs in case they attacked. This is their birthing grounds, and plesiosaurs are notoriously protective parents." He paused. "Certain people always forget that these are wild, untamed animals and they are very, very dangerous." The way Brian emphasized the word 'people' made it clear he had someone _very_ specific in mind.

"I never forget," Gerard whispered to Frank. 

"Dude, that's a lie!" Frank was outraged, because he'd watched Gerard take stupid risks repeatedly, and he was worried that one day Gerard would actually get fucking eaten. "You forget all the fucking time!"

"Do not!"

Frank rolled his eyes. "You totally do."

Ray focused on the pile of rocks behind Brian for a moment before panning back to him as he talked to the camera.

"We found a company in Hawaii, Nature Blinds, that has had a lot of success in building complex animal blinds, and when we presented them with our particular problem, they were more than happy to work with us on a solution." He gestured toward the tumble of dark rocks along the beach. "We've dug out a trench in the sand, then covered it with some artificial boulders, which creates a little cave that we can shelter in."

Brian picked up a small rock at his feet. It was dark and jagged, not like the usual wave-smoothed rocks found on beaches.

"The island is made up of basaltic a'a lava flows, which is why the beach sand is black instead of brown or white. All the rocks on the shore are weathered lava, and it gave Nature Blinds a starting point for creating their blind. They created artificial boulders out of a combination of sorghum starch and crushed beach rock. They're lightweight, but strong, and are non-toxic and biodegradable. They blend in perfectly; it's impossible to tell them apart from the real beach boulders." Brian looked concerned for a moment. "It won't stop a determined attack from a plesiosaurus, but it'll stand up long enough to give everyone time to escape. I hope."

"Cut!" Ray nodded, and gave Brian a thumbs-up.

"Great job!" Gerard enthused, running up and clapping Brian on the shoulder. "That was perfect."

"I have a bad feeling about this, Gerard," he said.

Gerard and Frank had already heard a recitation of Brian's rather descriptive list of things that could go wrong. "We'll be careful, Brian. I promise."

Frank had a wild urge to point out to Brian that Gerard's fingers were crossed behind his back, but he didn't even have to, because Brian _knew_ Gerard.

"Don't fucking promise if you don't mean it, you asshole." Brian stomped away. "If you get eaten, I'm never, ever forgiving you," he shouted over his shoulder.

* * *

"This beach is the birthing grounds for a number of different plesiosaurs, including _Seeleyosaurus guilelmiimperatoris_ , _Meyerasaurus victor_ and the largest plesiosaurus species, _Mauisaurus haasti_." Frank's face was heavily shadowed, barely visible in the dim light coming in from the irregularly shaped viewing hole of the blind. He was hunched over, sitting on a camp stool. "'Birthing ground' is actually a misnomer, because plesiosaurs give birth to their young at sea, but move ashore for the first six weeks of the babies' lives. In spite of all the dangers they face on land, it's infinitely safer than being in the ocean during these first, critical weeks of the babies' lives."

Ray panned the camera to Gerard, who was looking out of the hole, scanning what little of the beach he could see. He hadn't been able to find a flat spot for his stool, so he listed awkwardly to one side.

"For the longest time, early biologists were sure that plesiosaurs were too large and clumsy to actually make their way onto land. They thought plesiosaur nests belonged to some unknown genera of animals that just hadn't been seen in the wild. It wasn't until 1899, when Octavie Coudreau documented the plesiosaur birthing grounds in South America with detailed zoological notes and drawings, that scientists had proof of plesiosaurs being able to move on land."

"Octavie Cordreau was a French explorer. She and her husband worked on mapping the Amazon River and its tributaries. She was pretty awesome," Frank interjected with a loud whisper.

Gerard nodded. "Oh, look!"

Ray smoothly set the camera on a tripod, focusing on the plesiosaur that was moving awkwardly up the beach toward the blind.

" _M. victor_ ," Frank said softly. "One of the smaller species, about four meters in length. Look at how the mama plesiosaur has to really use her flippers to 'swim' through the sand. Amazingly, she'll make the journey back to the sea daily in order to keep herself and her baby fed."

"Being a mama plesiosaur is not an easy job," Gerard agreed.

Ray continued to film as more plesiosaurs arrived on the beach, struggling inland. The air was filled with honks and bellows from the mothers and soft cheeping from the babies.

"Oh, man, look at them all." Frank's voice was filled with awe. 

Gerard took up the narrative. "The mama plesiosaur will dig a little shallow nest area for her baby, hoping it will keep the baby safe from predators, and she'll spend the next month and a half taking care of her baby. Hunting for it, feeding it, teaching it, giving the baby time to grow and survive."

Frank bounced a little in place next to Ray. "And amazingly, at the end of the six weeks, mama and baby will head back into the ocean and swim hundreds of miles to reunite with their pod. It's not clear how mama knows where her pod will be; many scientists speculate that plesiosaurs navigate using magnetic fields, and that individual pods follow specific migration patterns. Either way, mama and baby will rejoin their pod, which will consist of up to twenty females and a handful of males. There's usually at least three generations of plesiosaurs in a pod, and the pod is always led by one of the elder females."

"I love plesiosaurs; they're so amazing," Gerard said.

"The babies are so cute," Frank cooed.

Gerard rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep from smiling.

* * *

"I told you there was nothing to worry about, Bri."

Brian cracked his knuckles. "We're not done filming yet, Gerard. You don't actually get to say 'I told you so' until we've wrapped the filming here." Brian wasn't _shouting_ , really, it was just hard to hear conversations on the beach, with the wind and the waves and the honking.

Gerard flapped a hand at Brian, and Brian looked to Frank for backup.

"I'm trying, dude," Frank muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Whatever. We're fine, no one's gonna get eaten," Gerard said blithely. "Frank and I are going to talk about plesiosaurs while Ray gets some of the most amazing footage. And when Frank and I get up on stage to accept our awards for best nature documentary show, serial format, we will be sure to thank you. _Repeatedly._ "

"Asshole," Brian muttered. "Seriously will never forgive you if you get eaten." He stomped off in a huff.

"Dude, he's really gonna be pissed if we get eaten," Frank commented.

"Frank, we're _so_ not going to get eaten."

He shrugged. "If you say so, Gee."

* * *

"Look at P4 and her baby, are they interacting—yes, they are, look, Frankie, they're socializing with P8 and P3. The little ones are playing together."

Baby plesiosaurs were like all baby animals: chubby, clumsy and cute. Frank had to bite his lip a lot to keep from cooing over them like an idiot.

The plesiosaurs had fairly unique markings, their sleek bodies striped and shaded with blue and grey, and Gerard had a good eye for differentiating between individuals. While Ray was filming the plesiosaurs, Gerard and Frank made observations of their behavior, noting the way the mother plesiosaurs shared parenting duties and watched out for each others' babies.

Frank squinted; it was bright outside and he had a harder time telling individuals apart. "Uh oh," he muttered. There was a baby plesiosaur, wandering alone on the sand. "Can't tell if it's lost, or just exploring. It doesn't appear distressed. . ."

"Where?" Gerard asked.

"Two o'clock."

"Well, it's not calling for its mama, so it's probably just exploring." They'd watched other babies call for their mothers, and seen how quickly the mothers had come looking for their little ones. Mama plesiosaurs were extremely dedicated parents.

"Hmmm," Frank agreed.

They watched the baby play with some seaweed, tossing it around and clumsily flippering after it; Frank couldn't keep from smiling at the antics. It investigated a bit of driftwood, chased a crab, and spent some time rolling in the sand.

Something caught the baby's attention, and it swiveled its head back and forth on its long neck before it headed directly for the blind, moving as fast as its little flippers could move.

"Uh, guys?" Ray sounded disconcerted.

Gerard had to stand up to see what the baby was doing. "Shhh." The baby seemed very determined, digging at the edge of the blind with its flippers, nudging at the artificial rocks with its head. Gerard was worried that it was going to hurt itself.

"Shoo," Frank hissed, as carefully as he could. "Shoo." He wanted the baby to leave, but at the same time, he didn't want to frighten it.

Gerard rolled his eyes. The baby _cheeped_ and continued to dig in the sand. Ray had moved to another viewing hole in the blind and was getting great shots of the baby.

"I hope mama plesiosaur doesn't come looking for her baby," Ray murmured quietly.

"Mmm," Gerard agreed. It was amazing getting such close up shots of a baby plesiosaur, though. They could see the texture of the plesiosaur's skin, smooth like a dolphin. It had spots on its chest that led down to its belly, and subtle striping that Gerard suspected would become more prominent as the baby grew.

"Shoo," Frank tried again. "C'mon, little guy, go away before your mama comes looking for you. Shoo."

There was a loud, angry _honk_. "Too late," Ray said. "We need to go, now."

Out the viewing hole, Frank could see a really large plesiosaur flippering straight toward them, honking frantically for her baby. The baby picked up on its mother's fear and started calling back, which apparently just pissed off the mother.

"Fuck, _Mauisaurus haasti_ , she's more than 30 feet long, with a jawful of razor sharp teeth," Gerard said, quickly collecting his notes and shoving them into his bag. "Let's go, guys."

Frank lifted up the canvas that covered the back of the blind, and was confronted by the baby plesiosaur, who had stopped squalling long enough to check out the commotion they'd been making. "Oh, fuck."

Mama plesiosaur was bearing down on them, and Frank shoved Ray and his camera out. "Go, go, go!" Brian was trying to distract the mother, shouting and waving a tee shirt like a flag, but mama was very intent on 'rescuing' her baby. Frank gripped Gerard's elbow hard, and pulled them both out of the blind, running as fast as he could, hot on Ray's heels. He didn't let go of Gerard, and he didn't turn around to look, because he could hear the mama plesiosaur roaring, could smell the rank fishy-ness of her breath, felt her teeth catch on the back of his hoodie for one brief moment before he ripped free.

He didn't stop until they fell into the arms of their crew.

* * *

They were far enough away that the couldn't hear what Brian was saying, but his body language was eloquent.

Frank wasn't sure about filming Brian as he chewed out Gerard, but Ray pointed out that it was part of the narrative of this episode, and they could choose not to include the footage at a later point. So Frank watched, wincing occasionally, while Brian gesticulated angrily, and Gerard hunched deeper into his hoodie.

Gerard's posture had been defiant at first, which had clearly pissed Brian off even more, but little by little Brian lectured and scolded Gerard until he was subdued and apologetic. Brian stalked away, still angry, and when he passed by Frank, he glared at him. "And you need to stop encouraging him!"

Frank wanted to argue, because he hadn't done anything, but decided maybe this wasn't the time. He slunk back to the tent he shared with Gerard and climbed into his sleeping bag, suddenly exhausted. Sleep eluded him, though, because his brain kept showing him images of the wreckage of the blind after the mama plesiosaur had finished demolishing it. They'd been lucky to get out when they did.

Frank finally drifted off into a restless doze, only to surface when Gerard unzipped the tent flaps and let himself in. He looked pale. "You okay?" Frank asked quietly. 

Gerard busied himself with unbuttoning his plaid shirt and exchanging it for the ratty sweatshirt he usually slept in. "Yeah." He toed off his shoes and struggled out of his jeans, dropping to his knees to dig for his sleep pants. "Brian has a way of making you feel like a total idiot." He shrugged.

Frank had received his fair share of rebukes from Brian for doing stupid shit; he knew the feeling. "You need a hug?"

Gerard's dark hair hung in his face, but Frank saw the hesitant nod. 

"C'mere." Frank sat up and pulled Gerard close, feeling the stiffness in his body. He wrapped his arms around Gerard's shoulders and squeezed, burying his face in Gerard's neck and just breathed. "It's okay, we all fuck up, no one got hurt. . ."

He exhaled, a shuddery sigh. "Brian showed me the raw footage from the other cameras, Frank. That mama plesiosaur almost ate you. It was fucking close—"

Frank rubbed slow circles on Gerard's back. He _knew_ , because his favorite hoodie now had a set of tears where the plesiosaur had managed to bite the fabric. "I'm fine, Gerard."

Gerard nodded against Frank's head and let himself be held until the tension melted away.

* * *

Gerard knew he looked like an idiot, but to be honest, he gave zero fucks about how ridiculous he looked. It was a matter of not getting sunburned again, and he didn't care if his swim trunks didn't match his rather lurid Hawaiian shirt.

The shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his pale, pudgy belly and the scraggly trail of dark hair that bisected his chest, but it was so fucking hot that he couldn't even think about buttoning it up.

It was a compromise, wearing the shirt. He'd gotten sunburnt a few weeks earlier and after Brendon's lecture about the long-term effects of solar radiation, Gerard decided to keep the shirt on even in the water. 

His lucky sunglasses kept the glare off the water from blinding him too much while he waited for Frank at the bow of the _Orca_.

"Dude, that shirt is. . ." Frank seemed, uncharacteristically, at a loss for words.

"Awesome? Amazing?"

"Ugly as fuck." He grinned at Gerard.

Gerard sighed, because Frank wasn't wrong. Frank was wearing a green tee shirt, so old that the design had worn away, leaving patches of white. Gerard suspected it might have been a band shirt of some sort, but it was impossible to tell. His swim trunks, on the other hand, were fluorescent _pink_ even with his sunglasses on. "No room to talk, Frank. Your trunks are fucking blinding pink."

Frank shrugged. "I like pink."

"Well, there's no way they're gonna lose track of us. Probably can see my shirt and your trunks from fucking outer space."

Giggling, Frank nodded. "Probably." He held up a bottle of sunscreen. "Can you give me a hand?"

"Sure," Gerard said, accepting Frank's special SPF-five-billion-formulated-for-tattooed-punks sunscreen. He shook the bottle, then squirted a handful into the palm of his hand. Setting the bottle down on the deck, he waited while Frank took off his shirt and turned his back to Gerard.

He paused for a second, because he'd known that Frank had a lot of tattoos, but he hadn't seen him without a shirt until now, and man, Frank had a fuck ton of tattoos. He wanted to catalog them, trace them with his fingers, ask Frank about the meaning behind each one. . .instead, he just started rubbing in the sunscreen.

Frank's shoulders were broad and muscled, and felt good under Gerard's hands. He couldn't help but linger a little, squeezing and massaging. Frank dropped his head and exhaled softly, relaxing under Gerard's touch.

"S'nice," Frank said softly. "Feels nice."

The words brought Gerard back, reminded him where he was. He ignored the heat that pooled in his belly, and handed the sunscreen back to Frank. "Should be good." His voice was a low and a little breathless; he hoped that Frank didn't notice.

"Thanks." 

Gerard met Frank's eyes, and couldn't look away.

* * *

Mikey was a certified scuba diver, so he was taking point on the underwater camera work. While Brian was helping him into his gear, Ray filmed Gerard and Frank doing an intro.

" _Archelon ischyros_ is the largest turtle genus alive today. They've been around since the late Cretaceous, managing to survive the K-T extinction event that killed off so many other species. Their anatomy is primitive compared to modern turtles; their shell isn't made of fused keratin scutes, but instead is composed of a bony framework that's covered by a leathery skin. They're the ancestors of the leatherback turtles—"

"Just larger!" Frank interrupted. " _So_ much larger!" He was bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

"Yeah, pretty much," Gerard agreed. "They're about as big as a car, four meters long, about five meters wide. They weigh anywhere from two and a half to three tons, and some individuals have been observed to live for more than a hundred years."

"Archelon mostly eat squids and shellfish, though they don't hesitate to eat fish if they can catch them. They have these amazingly powerful jaws"—Frank made a snapping motion with his hand—"that can crush bone and shell. They can be very active hunters, chasing down their fast-moving prey."

"Hopefully they won't see _us_ as prey.”

“You better not get eaten,” came Brian’s voice from off camera.

“We won’t,” Gerard and Frank chorused together.

"Archelon can dive pretty deep, but they prefer to stay in the upper reaches of the ocean. So while Mikey's got all of his scuba gear on to do the filming, we're going a little more low tech." Frank brandished a snorkel and stood awkwardly on one leg to show off a flippered foot. "Snorkeling is so easy, even someone like Gerard, who isn't a strong swimmer, can do it. And it's a great way to get close to them without disturbing them unduly."

"And hopefully not get eaten," Gerard added with a thumbs up.

* * *

It was peaceful and quiet underwater, and they swam among with the archelon, which pretty much ignored them, in spite of the garishness of Gerard's shirt and Frank's swim trunks. 

Gerard could see Mikey ahead of the bale, the group designation for sea turtles, showing off and swimming backwards. Frank turned and looked at him, trying to smile with the mouthpiece gripped between his lips. He looked. . .joyful. It did something to the lines of Frank's face, made him, impossibly, even more beautiful in Gerard's eyes.

He was so fucking screwed, because he realized in that moment that he wanted nothing more in his life than to make Frank happy. And that was _love_.

Something must have shown on his face, because Frank raised an eyebrow in question. All Gerard could do was make the 'OK' symbol, because he didn't know what else to do. So fucking screwed.

## Brazil

The Guiana Highlands were one of the most biodiverse places in the world. "It's got one of the largest stretches of undisturbed rainforest. There are literally several thousands of plant and animal species in the area, many of them unique to the Highlands," Frank said.

Gerard pointed at the rainforest barely visible in the distance. "We're going to try really hard to minimize our impact here. We've enlisted native ecological experts to come up with a plan that will allow us to film and observe some of the dinosaurs without creating too much of a disturbance. The ecology is fragile in some ways, robust in others, but we don't want any lasting consequences from our visit." 

He'd worked hard on this, _they'd_ worked hard, because it was important to leave the area as undisturbed as possible.

"Right now," Frank explained, "we're in the lowlands. This is the home of _Amargasaurus cazaui_ , a unique-looking animal. It's one of the smaller sauropods, only reaching about 30 feet long, with a shorter, stout neck in comparison to its sauropod cousins.

"What also makes amargasaurs different are their neck spines, a double row of bone spines that reach up to two feet long. The spines are used for defense, for communication, and for attracting mates."

"They can rattle their spines to make noise that travels over great distances," Gerard interjected. "Scientists have identified about five individual sounds and have tentatively assigned meanings to them."

"There are very few natural predators of larger sauropods in the lowlands, so the population of amargasaurs is probably larger than the area can sustain. There's been some issues with amargasuars damaging and killing large stands of trees, and moving into inhabited areas, which hadn't been a problem in the past.

"Now farmers are having their crops eaten or destroyed by amargasaurs. Some are talking about allowing controlled hunts, to lower the population." Frank's mouth twisted in disgust.

"There's no easy solution to problems like this, where humans and animals try to coexist in the same places," Gerard pointed out.

* * *

They saw their first amargasaurs a few days later, and Frank had a hard time not laughing at how silly they looked with their neck spines. He understood they had several practical purposes, but still, they looked ridiculous.

"Just like you," Gerard murmured. They were sitting high up in a tree, watch a small herd of amargasaurs strip chunks of bark off the trees. 

One of the bigger amargasaurs suddenly became alert, lifting its head up and looking around. It shook its head, rattling its neck spines loudly.

It sounded a lot like a roll of thunder. "Cool," Frank said.

* * *

They moved into the Highlands to try to capture footage of _Eoraptor lunensis_.

"My personal favorite," Gerard said. Dusk was rapidly approaching, and Frank, Gerard and Mikey had taken refuge in the blind they'd set up near a game path. "They're the smallest members of the raptor family, only reaching about three feet in length. They're omnivores; they prefer to hunt, but will pretty much eat anything they can get their little claws on."

Frank laughed softly. "They're smart, too, and can work out complex problems."

"Shhh," Mikey said, as the sound of _something_ moving through the foliage filtered to them.

It was hard to see in the dimness, but Frank squinted, and could make out the shapes of a pack of raptors, about six of them. They weren't actively hunting, so they were cheeping and chirping at each other, tussling and wrestling.

"Oh," Gerard breathed happily, leaning forward.

* * *

"What _is_ that?"

"Hmmm?"

"Look at this, Gerard, I've never seen anything like it."

Gerard took the binoculars from Frank and aimed them where Frank was pointing. "Huh." It was a small scaled dinosaur, brightly colored like a rainbow, painted in shades of blue and green, yellow and orange. It was shaped less like a dinosaur, more like a lizard, but with a long, feathered-tufted tail. "Weird."

"They seem to congregate along the river."

Gerard counted five of the dinos dotting the river banks, sunning themselves on rocks. The looked to be a couple feet long, mostly tail. "Let's check 'em out."

They attempted to get near while Ray filmed from his vantage point. Most of the dinosaurs scurried away, but a couple seemed fearless, letting Gerard and Frank get quite close.

"I don't know, Frank. They don't look like anything I've seen before," he whispered. Gerard was puzzled; it was rare to run across a species he hadn't seen before.

Frank nodded.

There was a screech, and it startled Gerard and Frank, which in turn startled one of their mysterious dinosaurs. It jumped and landed near Frank, hissed and, quick as a flash, bit his leg before running into the underbrush.

"Motherfucker," Frank yelped.

"You okay? Let me see." Frank looked a little pale.

"It's okay, I don't think it got through the material of my jeans—"

Except it had. Gerard could see two holes in the denim. "No, I think he got you, Frankie." He pushed up the leg of Frank's jeans to reveal puncture marks, sluggishly bleeding. He reminded himself to keep calm. "These look like snake bites. Mikey, call for Brendon, now."

Frank heard the static of the walkie-talkie and shivered as he realized that he was in some pretty deep shit. "Gerard—"

"Shhh. You're going to be okay, Frank, I promise. I need you to lay down for me, and stay calm, okay?"

"Okay," he said weakly. He was starting to feel nauseous, and there was a hot, burning sensation spreading from his leg.

"I'm going to take off your boot in case your foot starts swelling, Frank," Gerard said, as he matched action to words. "And I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut your jeans a little."

"All right."

Gerard pulled his knife out and made a cut from the hem to Frank's knee. He wanted Brendon to be able to easily access the wound. "Keep talking to me, Frank. What do you think those dinos were?" 

Frank gasped as his leg started to throb painfully. "I don't know."

Brendon dropped next to Frank, his kit already open. "That's a nasty bite you got there, Frank."

Frank tried to chuckle, but it was choked off as the pain crested.

"All right. I'm gonna inject you with a polyvalent antivenin and then we're gonna get you to the nearest hospital."

"Don't wanna," Frank complained.

Gerard rolled his eyes and grabbed Frank's hand, squeezing it. "Don't be stupid. If you don't go to the hospital, your leg is going to get gangrene and fall off. You'll have to get a peg leg and become a pirate."

"Not funny," Frank mumbled. Gerard winced on his behalf as Brendon injected him with the antivenin.

"Okay," Brendon said, patting Frank's shoulder. "We've got a stretcher coming, we're going to carry you back to the main road, then transport you to a clearing. Then you get to ride in a nice helicopter to the hospital."

It scared Gerard, but he didn't want to worry Frank. "I've always wanted to ride in a helicopter."

"Then _you_ go to the hospital." He was starting to shiver, and Brendon covered him with one of those weird aluminum foil blankets. "Don't let go," Frank said suddenly, clutching at Gerard's hand.

"I won't," Gerard said, and he realized he meant it with all of his heart.

* * *

It was days before Frank had enough energy to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. "I want to get out of here. It was just a bite."

Gerard didn't even look up from the book he was reading. "A bite from a previously unknown dinosaur, which was treated with a broad spectrum antivenin." Frank was feeling well enough to start expressing his dissatisfaction with the situation. "Even if they'd given you an antivenin _specific_ to the dino that bit you, you still wouldn't be released from the hospital."

"Fucker."

"Whatever."

A silence descended on the room. Gerard counted down in his head. . .5, 4, 3. . .

"I'm bored."

"I brought you books."

Frank huffed. "I read them all."

"You could take a nap."

"I'm not tired."

Gerard closed his book and stood up, arching his back in a long stretch before sitting on the edge of Frank's bed. "What do you want to do? We can go for a ride in your wheelchair, take a trip down the hallway. . ."

Frank knew he was being a pain in the ass, but he couldn't help himself. He was _bored_.

"The government here sent out a hunting party, and they've captured a couple of our mystery dinos. They're talking about naming them after you."

"That's rad." He could feel himself blushing, but he was okay with that.

"They're also working on creating an antivenin for the dino," Gerard said.

"Even better. Next time I won't end up in the hospital for two weeks."

Gerard's stomach twisted at the idea of Frank getting hurt again. "Listen—" He stopped, because this was big, this was standing at the edge of the cliff and finally, _finally_ deciding to jump. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Frank, listen, I was so scared that you weren't going to make it through this, that I wouldn't have a chance to tell you—"

Frank waited, expecting Gerard to go on, but he didn't. "Tell me what, Gee?" Frank _knew_ , of course he did, because he felt the same way. Had, for months now. But he still was a punk; he wanted Gerard to say it.

"You're an asshole."

"Yeah, but. . ." he coaxed.

"I love you anyway."

Frank grinned, and laughed when Gerard huffed at him. "I love you too, Gerard."

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> This story is not the story I started out writing.
> 
> I had a lot of problems with the story, from writer's block to a difficult summer filled with financial issues and roommate issues that culminated in a call to a domestic violence hot line and the police.
> 
> The story suffered because of that. 
> 
> It's not the story I wanted to write. But here it is, regardless.
> 
> I've loved dinosaurs for a long, long time. When I moved from NM to NY, I left behind hundreds of dinosaurs: stuffed dinos, plastic dinos, rubber dinos, a dino CD case, dino fingerpuppets, dinos from movies, etc. 
> 
> Also, there's this excellent family game created by Steve Jackson Games years ago called [Dino Hunt](http://www.sjgames.com/dinohunt/), which strongly influenced the origin of this story.
> 
> Alas, Jurassic World stole some of my thunder for this story, but in the end, it's okay. More movies with dinos is always a good thing.
> 
> This story is based on science, but we're talking about alternate evolutionary lines, so a lot of it is supposition. There are no birds in this world, and I probably put too much thought into how different the world would be with dinos.
> 
> Note that while the bit about the albertosaur teeth having little cavities to keep them from cracking is true, I made up the bit about them constantly regrowing their teeth. I was rushed for time and couldn't write around the idea of the dinos being toothless after they attacked the Land Rover...
> 
> Some links:  
> [Uyghur phrasebook](http://kuscholarworks.ku.edu/bitstream/handle/1808/5624/EngYakDwy2010_Uyg1full_11.pdf)
> 
>  
> 
> [Reviews and recipes about Asian food, especially along the Silk Road](http://www.silkroadgourmet.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [Video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9T1vfsHYiKY) that inspired Frank's amorous pterosaur encounter


End file.
